


Darker Yet Darker

by nighttimelights



Category: Undertale, Undertale AU - Fandom
Genre: Frisk is older au, Older AU, TakeoverTale, dark au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighttimelights/pseuds/nighttimelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Quickly and quietly, the remaining monsters were brought to the mountain and led inside. Their leader begged for an alternative, someplace with open skies and a chance for lives led less captive. The king denied him, and as the last of the monsters entered the only entrance, the sorcerors raised their magic... </i><br/> <br/><i>It was time, they decided. Years of research had led them here, and yet it had done little other than give Frisk more questions to answer.</i><br/> <br/><i>They were going to do some hands-on research.</i></p><p> ***</p><p>When fate prevents a younger Frisk from ever falling into the depths of Mount Ebott, 15 years pass before they're able to venture close again. What has happened to the monsters trapped underground in those years? Thorny vines now prevent even most magical approaches to the mountain, and only rumor abounds about the fate of the monsters trapped inside. Something isn't right, and Frisk is about to find out firsthand.</p><p>
  <b>---- ON HIATUS.-----</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Magic

_The Era of Coexistence had lasted longer than written history. And yet, in a passing moment, its ends echoed across the world._

_The name of the child whose soul had been stolen by an ambassador of monsterkind has since been lost. The soul itself was never recovered, and its use has only been speculated about; yet the child’s community demanded retribution, upheld by their neighbors, and theirs, and theirs._

_Monsters and humans had lived side by side. Violence and prejudice towards monsters quickly reached critical levels after the incident, and many monsters began to flee their homes. Others tried to speak out, reach out, and regain peace as pacifists. Most of these activists were killed. It was rumored some of the more well-known pacifist monsters would steal the souls of the humans who listened to them, and command the humans to turn on their own kind. No solid evidence was found to support these claims, but it remains a popular theory today._

_Then, in 19XX, the king declared the Soul Protection Act. For the sake of the souls of humanity, all monsters would be eradicated._

_Humans possess powerful souls, and pull magic from their surroundings; monsters have souls far less sturdy, yet their magic is pulled from within themselves, and their bodies are largely made of that magic. This had long been a source of conflict between the two races, but had been deemed a natural part of life and was largely accepted. After the SPA, the makeup of monsters’ very being was used as ‘evidence’ of their inherent danger. It was their proof of monsters’ lack of humanity, for want of a better word._

_The war did not last long. Some monsters fought back, but the anger and determination of the humans sealed the monsters’ fate. It was a slaughter._

_Just a few months later, only a small sect of monsters remained. The leader of this group, a monster of goat-like appearance, surrendered and begged mercy for the few remaining of his people. Many humans demanded mercilessness, but some hint of regret seemed to have slipped into the hearts of most humans - they had just enacted a genocide. There was no other word for it._

_But time was running out; some sects of humanity threatened to kill the monsters themselves, if the king and his council did not act. A group of seven scholar-sorcerers approached the king, and suggested isolating the monsters where they could not again hurt a human. Mount Ebott, a dormant volcano and landmark outside the capitol of the time, was deemed a perfect location._

_Quickly and quietly, the remaining monsters were brought to the mountain and led inside. Their leader begged for an alternative, someplace with open skies and a chance for lives led less captive. The king denied him, and as the last of the monsters entered the only entrance, the sorcerors raised their magic._

_It is said that the air crackled for miles with the essence of power and determination itself. Some rumors whisper, however, that the air echoed with the cries of the souls sealed eternally within the mountain._

_Mount Ebott remains today, towering in the background of the old capitol. The city has been all but abandoned, however; while it remained the abode of the king and his heirs as years passed, in 2015 a natural disaster rendered the landscape unrecognizable. Today, miles upon miles of thorny vines have warped the landscape, making passage to Mount Ebott unthinkable. Rumor, too, of the imminent deadly fate of those who venture to the lair of the monsters curb the few who would risk using magic to explore. The vines appear to be resistant to most modern magics, regardless, and thus Mount Ebott remains an unapproachable tragic relic and reminder of the sins of humanity._

With a dusty snap, Frisk closed the book.

 _And now, only determined magic scholars venture to the old capitol_ , they thought. The noise of the book was lost amidst the towering bookcases of the castle library, stretching on and around into the distance. 

They sighed, pushing back in their chair to lean on its two back legs. Crossing their arms, Frisk worried their lower lip with their teeth.

This was the greatest amount of information they had found in one book on the monster genocide that had happened almost a century ago. Most modern history books skated over the transition from coexistance to humanity’s sole reign.

As infuriating as it was, Frisk admitted that they hadn’t even questioned the lack of information until almost 15 years ago. They had been visiting the old capitol with their parents at the time - in 2015. It must have happened in the night, because Frisk woke up to the smell of scorched Earth and thick, thorned vines… everywhere, everywhere. Everywhere, and still moving - slowly. And…

Frisk shook their head. They didn’t want to think about the next part. No, no. But after that, after they had escaped the inn, they kept running. Eventually they were rescued by a fleeing mage, but Frisk didn’t know much else about what immediately followed.

The young scholar leaned forward, resting all four legs of the chair on the ground once more. With a sigh, they stood, scribbled down some quick notes in a small journal, and left the library.

It was time, they decided. Years of research had led them here, and yet it had done little other than give Frisk more questions to answer. 

They were going to do some hands-on research.

***

Frisk rolled their shoulders with a few deep breaths, leaving puffs of crystalline air in the brisk morning breeze. A warm sweater rested in their pack, but knowing the exertion that awaited them they left it there.

With a quick hike of their soft pants, an adjustment of the small pack on their back, and a nervous tug at the laces of their boots, Frisk nodded at the wall of vines almost cordially. Overhead, the peak of Mount Ebott loomed.

Frisk shook out their hands and closed their eyes.

_Modern magic won’t work on you, huh?_

They squared their stance.

_How about something a little more old-style?_

Reaching deep into their core, Frisk pulled at their burning determination and felt the warm red spark that waited to be called. Pulling at the energy in the air that they now could sense tickling their skin, they drew characters in the air - ancient symbols that blazed through the depths of their mind.

With a rumble, the vines began to move.

Sweat beaded on Frisk’s forehead as they _pushed_. Even with the ancient working that they were calling, the vines were reluctant to move, and fought to escape their influence. Realizing that it was now or never, Frisk opened their eyes and strode forward, hands still moving as they worked to keep the vines open just ahead.

***

Two hours later, Frisk was drenched in sweat. The pack pulled painfully at their shoulders as the living vines caught at it as Frisk’s magic waned. They were rushing now, sloppy in their work, but desperate to reach some sort of clearing before they were drained. Their arms were covered in cuts and gashes, blood staining their dark skin darker yet.

Frisk knew that they were reaching the peak of the mountain; they had to be. The burnt remains of trees had begun to clear out as they reached either the source of the disaster or the treeline; they didn’t take the precious time to figure out which it was.

And suddenly, they realized that they were no longer shifting vines at random - they were parting them, as if heading towards their source. With a burst of renewed energy, Frisk shoved their magic forward, and caught a glimpse of a cave.

Just as they saw the opening in the mountainside, their magic wavered. And with a stutter, they lost their grip on the spark. Horror gripped Frisk, and their head whipped around as the vines snapped close behind them. The closing rolled forward, rushing straight at them.

Without another thought, Frisk sprinted.

Exhausted muscles screamed as they dashed for the small opening they had left ahead of them. Determination was the only thing powering their body now, and the need to survive carried them into the dark cave, forward, forward, sightless - 

And suddenly, nothing was below their feet.

With a silent scream, Frisk plunged into the blackness.


	2. Through the Door

_“Frisk, Frisk, little one-”_

_Frisk rolled over, balling their fists in the blanket. Warm hands pushed it aside and scooped Frisk into a tight embrace._

_“I need you awake, we need to go-”_

_“There’s no time for this, they’re getting in! Take them and go, now!”_

_Frisk’s heavy eyes opened as they felt themselves being lifted. They felt small, so small. They rubbed their hands at their eyes, trying to make sense of the blur in the air. But even that didn’t clear it - no, it was smoke, they realized with a jolt._

All at once, everything hurt.

Warily, Frisk cracked one eye open. Above them was blackness, nothing but it. The blackness that had swallowed them, they realized.

Both eyes open now, Frisk tried to take stock of their body - they had fallen so far, so deep into this - this cavern, surely they couldn’t have survived it -

But they had. Their muscles were tense and sore, and the cuts on their arms and shoulders were still sluggishly bleeding, but they had no broken bones or other injuries they should have had from the fall. Slowly, painfully, they sat up, noticing that they were laying in a bed of yellow flowers. Tender fingers explored their head, but aside from a dull throb of exhaustion, nothing felt wrong. 

“YES, UNDERSTOOD. I AM IN THE RUINS NOW, I WILL REPORT IN SHORTLY.”

Frisk froze. 

In front of them, somebody rounded a corner. They clicked a cellphone shut and pocketed it with a sigh. Then, they looked up.

Okay, I really am dead, Frisk thought. I’m dead, because that is a skeleton.

They stared at the towering skeleton in front of them. Their mouth hung open.

The skeleton stared back. His mouth hung open.

He wore a strange, dark uniform; made of material blacker than night, the only color was in his comically red boots and his blood-red cape.

“HU...MAN…?” The skeleton asked, soft but so loud, and he took a step forward.

Frisk flinched and tried to scoot backward. Their pack was in the way, so they merely succeeded in flattening a few more of the flowers.

“NO, WAIT, IT’S OKAY-” the skeleton lifted his gloved hands in a gesture of peace. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAPTAIN OF THE- OF THE…” he trailed off, glancing to the side. “...CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD,” he finished.

Frisk continued to stare. The captain shuffled his feet.

“AHEM. ER. ARE YOU… HURT?”

Frisk shook their head, which throbbed a reminder. They looked down at their arms, bloody and stained. They looked back up and shrugged.

Papyrus looked horrified. “HUMAN, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??” He came a little closer - this time, Frisk stayed still.

Frisk glanced upward, and bit their lip.

[The vines,] they signed. Looking back down, they met the confused gaze of the skeleton.

They sighed. [Too much to hope for, I guess?]

“I’M AFRAID I DO NOT SPEAK IN HANDS, HUMAN!” Payrus said. He genuinely did appear saddened - and perhaps frustrated? “BUT YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME, RIGHT?”

Frisk nodded quickly. Papyrus smiled, bright and beaming. It was a little frightening, since he didn’t have lips. Or eyes. Or skin.

He moved forward, and offered his gloved hand to Frisk. They hesitated, then grasped it with a tentative smile. With a gentle tug, Papyrus pulled them to their feet, then handed them their pack. After gingerly placing it once more on their back, Frisk looked around again. They seemed to be in some kind of ruins, long overgrown and abandoned.

“I DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME, HUMAN,” Papyrus began. His phone rang then, and he froze. A moment passed as Frisk glanced from the phone to Papyrus face in confusion. He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth in a shushing motion, then answered it. He listened.

“NO, SIRE. NOTHING APPEARS AMISS.” He paused. “YES, I SPOKE TO THE KEEPER OF THE RUINS. SHE HAD SEEN NOTHING.” Pause. “RIGHT AWAY, SIRE.”

He closed his phone. His face had settled grimly. “EVEN LESS TIME THAN I HAD THOUGHT. HUMAN, I KNOW WE ONLY JUST MET, BUT WILL YOU TRUST ME?”

I don’t think I have much choice, Frisk thought. There was certainly no returning to their entrance -so forward it was. He seemed like a nice enough person. Skeleton. Monster, Frisk realized.

Papyrus was waiting patiently. Despite their slow realization, Frisk tucked it in the back of their mind for the moment. Whatever was happening, there was clearly a time constraint. They nodded at Papyrus.

He clasped his hands together. “WONDERFUL. FOLLOW ME - QUICKLY, AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN,” he said, and took off at a brisk walk. Frisk hurried to follow.

They wound through crumbled rooms, Papyrus gesturing occasionally for Frisk to wait as he triggered switches and traps.

“OUR REALM HAS CHANGED DRASTICALLY IN ONLY A SHORT TIME,” he said. Frisk followed behind him, just out of reach of the dramatic flapping of his cape. “OUR KING CHANGED, AND WITH IT… OUR PEOPLE.”

He reached back, looking for Frisk’s hand. Without hesitation, Frisk grasped his. He led them through rooms full of spiked floor traps, catching Frisk smoothly as they fell through trap doors and lowering them gently before triggering switches that allowed them to progress.

“I WAS PROMOTED TO CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD NOT LONG AFTER THAT,” he continued proudly as they moved on. They passed a balcony, tucked away - and for a brief moment, Frisk saw an enormous city, sprawling and covered in vines. Frisk tried to pause, but Papyrus tugged them onward, and the city disappeared from view.

His tone fell as he began speaking again. “BUT… THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME. MY FELLOW MONSTERS ARE SCARED. AND MY BROTHER… I DON’T SEE HIM ANYMORE. HE WAS PROMOTED AS WELL.” In the shadows, eyes followed their progress. Everytime Frisk tried to get a glimpse, however, the creatures would shrink back into the darkness.

Finally, they reached the crumbled front of a house. It was plain and unassuming, but a welcoming warmth seemed to spill from the windows. Papyrus turned to Frisk.

“I MUST LEAVE YOU, HUMAN. GO INTO THIS HOUSE. THE WOMAN HERE WILL HELP YOU. DO NOT TELL HER OF ME - IF YOU ARE ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH HER, I MEAN,” he added sheepishly. “STAY HIDDEN, HUMAN. PLEASE. IT IS THE ONLY WAY YOU WILL BE SAFE.”

Frisk stared at him, alarmed. Papyrus shook his head, and grinned.

“NYEH HEH HEH. AFTER ALL, NO HUMAN COULD EVER ESCAPE THE GREAT CAPTAIN PAPYRUS!” 

With a wink, he turned and sprinted off and disappeared around a corner. Somehow, Frisk knew that they wouldn’t be able to follow him if they tried.

Instead, they turned to the unassuming door Papyrus had left them in front of. Their head was still reeling - had they really fallen inside Mount Ebott? Monsters still existed, then?

But more importantly… what is so dangerous here? 

Frisk held one hand to their head. Whatever the case, they weren’t getting any answers standing out here. They hadn’t seen any other escapes in the death traps that Papyrus had just guided them through, either - and they didn’t feel strong enough to go looking on their own. Steeling themself, Frisk stepped forward and knocked on the door.

A few moments passed. And then a few more. A minute passed. Frisk felt a little silly, and they were annoyed at how fast their heart was beating.

They knocked again, louder this time.

And then the door opened. 

“Papyrus, dear, I’m afraid I’m not quite feeling up to-”

Frisk gaped at the towering goat woman that stood before her. Quickly they shut their mouth, and waved. The woman stared back, eyes wide.

[Hello, I’m Frisk,] Frisk signed. The woman started, and stared at Frisk’s hands. Frisk felt their shoulders tremble slightly, but firmly squared them. They wouldn’t run away now.

“Could you… repeat that?” 

Surprised, Frisk repeated themself. Then tentatively added, [... I’m a human, and I need help.]

The woman pressed her furry hands to her face, noticing Frisk’s wounds. “My child! Of course!” and quickly opened the door fully. Light poured outwards, and Frisk followed her inside.

She led Frisk to the left, and pulled a chair out from the simple dining table that filled part of the room. After being ushered into it, Frisk slipped their pack off their shoulders and held it in their lap.

“Please wait here for a- oh!” she looked embarrassed. “Can you hear me?”

Frisk nodded. They couldn’t help but smile - she was so sweet.

“Oh good - I can understand many signs, but I’m afraid I’m still quite terrible at signing myself,” she said, relieved. “Wait here a moment, I’ll be back with some supplies.”

With surprising speed, she hurried out of the room. Frisk barely had time to look around and take in the room - small, but cozy, lined with books and a small fireplace, with a single reading chair - before she was back with a small kit and a bowl of warm water.

The woman pulled a chair out for herself, situating it directly in front of Frisk. She sat and opened the kit, which was packed to the brim with medical supplies.

“If it’s alright, Frisk, I’m going to clean up your arms,” she said. Frisk nodded, tensing themself for the pain.

[I’ll be okay,] they signed. The woman smiled sadly.

“So very brave for one so hurt,” she replied. Dipping a cloth into the bowl, she began wiping down Frisk’s arms. They winced, feeling several of the cuts open up again. Despite the pain, they shook their head when the woman paused in worry. She began again, as gently as possible.

As she finished cleaning the cuts and turned to choose a salve, Frisk waved to get her attention.

[What’s your name?] they signed.

The woman blushed, faint behind her fur. “How rude of me! My name is Toriel, Frisk. It’s a pleasure to meet you - though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances,” she replied.

Frisk laughed silently. [It’s fine. It was my choice to come here.]

Toriel paused, salve-covered fingers hovering over the first of many cuts. “You chose to come here?”

[Well, it wasn’t exactly easy,] Frisk replied. [It took years of research to figure out what had happened… and I’m lucky that I had learned old magic when I was young,] they continued.

“You…” she stared at Frisk. Coming to her senses, she began applying salve to the many cuts on Frisk’s arms. Some gashes were extremely deep - but the salve must have been magic, Frisk realized, because the bleeding quickly stopped as it was applied. It still hurt, though.

“So the vines aren’t outside the mountain, then?” Toriel continued, focusing on her work.

[No, they surround the mountain - too dense to get through, and too strange a magic runs through them for modern human magic to move,] Frisk replied. Toriel squinted, mouth moving slowly. Frisk realized they had begun signing too fast, and repeated themself more slowly.

“Yes, human magic is very different from monster magic…” Toriel trailed off as she finished applying the salve. She unrolled a strip of bandages, and began covering the worst of the cuts. “I’ll leave the smallest cuts uncovered - they’ll heal quickly, and I’m afraid otherwise your arms would be covered completely,” she said. Frisk smiled and shook their head.

Toriel finished bandaging Frisk. Tentatively, they stretched their arms, pleased with how much better they felt already.

“Now, that salve will heal you more quickly, but I’m afraid it’s not powerful enough to leave you without scarring,” Toriel said, regret tinging her words.

Frisk shrugged. [I’ve already got scars - I don’t mind.]

Toriel regarded Frisk for a few moments, then moved to cross the room. “I think it’s time for some warm tea - and pie, if that’s alright,” she turned her head to check, and smiled at Frisk’s eager nod.

A few minutes later, Frisk was gently sipping a steaming cup of tea. They hadn’t realized just how thirsty they were - and how ready to eat they were. While they had no idea how long it had been since they had fallen down, it had clearly been long enough to have missed at least one meal. Suddenly remembering the contents of their pack, they placed their teacup on the table and started digging through it. Toriel watched them with curiosity. After a few moments, Frisk sat back up, pulling out a loaf of bread and a small jar.

[Would you like some bread? I’ve got jam, too!] They signed after placing it between them on the table. Toriel laughed, a smile spreading on her face.

“How kind of you! Usually it’s me offering food to fallen humans, not the other way around!”

Her laughter died immediately. She looked in horror at Frisk, who stared back.

[What fallen humans?] Frisk signed, slowly. Toriel stared at their hands, then lifted her gaze.

“I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to talk about it, I meant…” Toriel fiddled with her teacup.

[Toriel.] Frisk signed, but Toriel wasn’t looking away from the cup..

[Toriel,] they signed, moving their hands closer to the teacup. She didn’t look up, but Frisk saw her expression twist uncomfortably. Frisk watched her, staring, intent. Toriel looked away, and shifted uneasily. Frisk didn’t move.

Finally- “It’s been a long time since anyone has fallen.”

Frisk waited.

“... previously, it had only ever been children,” she continued. “I don’t know why. It’s just the way it was. I tried to protect them. But…” her expression hardened, then softened. “... they always left, in the end.”

Frisk waited, but Toriel didn’t continue this time.

[... and?] 

Toriel turned to look Frisk in the eye, at last.

“And they were killed. Each and every time.”

Frisk sat back. They felt numb - but somehow, they weren’t surprised.

Papyrus warned me for a reason, they thought dimly. Toriel watched them, her expression sad and so very tired.

Silence weighed heavy on the room. Gently, Toriel reached out her hand and rested it on Frisk’s.

“I’ll protect you, Frisk. As best I can. As long as you want.”

Slowly, Frisk looked up. Toriel meant it - to her very core. She seemed so tired, but fierce determination etched fearlessness in her weary features. That determination resonated in Frisk, and they breathed deeply as it lit a fire in them once again.

Frisk squeezed her hand gently. [Don’t worry, Toriel. I came here of my own free will - I wanted answers. And I’m determined to find them.]

“What answers do you seek, my child?” Toriel asked slowly.

[Quite a few,] Frisk admitted. [What really happened at the end of the Era of Coexistance? Why didn’t monsters fight back?] They were signing quickly, and they tried to slow themself down for Toriel’s sake. [And… what happened 15 years ago, when the vines came out?]

Toriel stared at Frisk. They flushed. [Too many questions?]

Carefully, Toriel replied, “no - your last question. I think you’re mistaken. 15 years?”

Frisk looked at her quizzically. [You mean when the vines came? Yeah, it was 15 years ago. Trust me on that,] they signed, grim.

Toriel stood suddenly, and quickly walked over to one of the bookshelves. Frisk watched her, confused, as she thumbed through several books, muttering.

“No, no, surely…” suddenly, she pulled one of the books out and flipped through it’s pages. She stopped part of the way through, eyes scanning the pages. Frisk stood and walked over to her.  
As Frisk reached her, Toriel looked up. “You’re certain it’s been 15 years?” Her expression was hard and serious. Frisk nodded quickly. Toriel stared, eyes looking into the distance. Frisk waited, worried. Finally, Toriel turned and placed the book on the table.

“Frisk… you probably won’t believe me, but…” she looked Frisk dead in the eye. “For us, underground, it has been only six months since the vines took over.”

[How is that possible?] Frisk signed, confused. [Did they start aboveground, and only come here six months ago?]

Toriel shook her head. “No, the source of the vines is here, in the underground - in the capital, actually.” She raised a hand and gestured to the book, still open to the page she had flipped to. “This is… a bit much to believe, but have you ever heard of the Save and Reset abilities?”

Frisk nodded - they had spent too much time in libraries to have not. They stared at her, mind working quickly.

[You’re saying… you think somebody down here has god-level magic?]

Toriel looked grim. “I’m saying, I know somebody down here has that magic.”

[Who?!]

“I don’t know, I - it could be any number of…” she trailed off, expression turning into horror. “Frisk. You are in terrible danger.”

[So I’ve heard,] Frisk signed, exasperated. [Why?]

Toriel ignored the implication and continued. “Somebody is using soul magic - and has six souls, human souls, so far,” she said. Frisk’s heart beat erratically, realization dawning on their face.

[And they would need one more to break the barrier, wouldn’t they?]

Shocked, Toriel regarded Frisk with surprise. “How did you know?”

Frisk waved a hand in frustration. [I spent years researching old magic and the fall of the Era of Coexistence. Along the way, I stumbled across a tome speculating about the nature of soul magic,] they quickly explained.

“That’s no little thing,” Toriel replied. “In any case, however - we have to keep you safe. For your sake, and the world’s.”

[Toriel, have these... six months - have they been bad?]

Toriel looked away. “Yes. And… I have a haunting feeling that previous ones have been worse. I thought that I had been having terrible dreams, but now I think it was more than that...”

Frisk began to pace. [And you want me to hide, so that whoever’s been causing all this can’t escape and wreak havoc?]

“Yes, of course!”

[And hiding will prevent them from finding me and using my soul for evil?]

“Yes!”

[And I should ignore the fact that you and the rest of your people have been tortured and had their lives, their time, stolen from them for 15 years - or longer?]

This time, Toriel was silent.

Frisk stopped pacing. No words were said or signed.

Toriel regarded them unhappily.

She sighed. “... why must you humans always leave?”

[You know why.]

“You are not a child, though. You know, I think, the risks.”

[As best I can, in the circumstances.]

“And what precisely do you think you can do, that no one else has tried?”

Frisk shrugged. [I suppose I won’t know for a while, yet. But I do know that I can’t hide.]

“Yes, you can.”

[It would just delay the inevitable, Toriel.]

“Frisk…”

[I won’t die. Not yet. I’m determined. I won’t let you down.]

“You can’t be sure.”

Frisk smiled. [You’re my friend, Tori. I won’t let you down, not now.]

Toriel blushed. “You think of me as a friend?”

[I know that you’re my friend.]

Quicker than Frisk could react, Toriel scooped them up into a fierce hug. Gingerly, careful of their bandages, Frisk returned the embrace. After a few moments, Toriel gently lowered them to the ground, and quickly wiped at one eye with her hand.

“Well, I know I can’t stop that kind of determination, friend,” she said softly. 

Frisk gently patted her on the arm. Toriel smiled and took a deep breath.

“However, I will absolutely not let you leave without being prepared,” she continued, framing her hips with her hands. “What are you missing from your pack?”

[You don’t have to-]

“Oh stop it. I want to.” Toriel moved towards the kitchen. “I’ll give you the rest of this pie - I’m afraid I only have snails outside of that, and in my experience it’s not a human’s favorite delicacy,” she added with a chuckle. Frisk grimaced, but a grin followed it.

After Toriel returned, they went through Frisk’s pack.

“Okay, here - you’ll want to be prepared, so take my first aid kit - and here are some more socks, you can never have too many - ah, you’ll want to put that sweater on, where you’re going.”

With Toriel’s help, Frisk shrugged their way into the sweater. 

“I love the stripes,” Toriel said.

[Thanks,] Frisk replied with a smile. They looked back down at their pack. [I think that’s everything…]

Toriel nodded with a small sigh. She gestured for Frisk to follow her, and together they made their way downstairs. After a short walk, Frisk realized they could start to see their breath puff faintly in front of them - and then they reached an ornate door.

“This door remains locked, I’m afraid,” Toriel said softly. “It only opens from this side, and I keep it that way. I used to come down and sit by it… but not anymore.” She shook herself. “I know the Royal Guard has another passage into the ruins, but I believe it’s largely magical. Once you leave, you might not be able to return.”

Frisk nodded. They had already made up their mind. Still…

[Thank you so much, Tori. I won’t forget you, and I promise to stay safe,] Frisk signed, then quickly hugged her. They opened the door.

Tori chuckled, the fur on her cheeks wet. “Don’t you know not to make promises you can’t keep?”

Frisk turned around as they stepped through the door. [Of course I do. But I keep my promises, Tori.] Frisk smiled, and gave a short wave. [Stay safe.]

With a small chuckle of surprise, Toriel waved back. 

Frisk turned and walked away as the door shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, making Toriel sad is not fun to write.
> 
> Still, Frisk is off! We're still delving into the magic and circumstances, but if you've got questions head on over to askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com and ask what you're wondering about to any of the characters who have shown up so far~
> 
> This was a quick update (less than a day!) but from here on out it'll probably be at least a few days between updates... or not. I've got work but we'll see how DETERMINED I get!


	3. All That Glitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... an unstoppable force moving towards an immoveable object._

The crunch of snow underfoot sent a chill up Frisk’s spine. They usually enjoyed the snow; wintertime was usually a warm time for them, as they would be curled up by a fire, drinking cider and pouring through books of old magic and older tales. 

But there was nothing comforting about the dark forest around them. The ever-present vines winding through the needle-straight trees played tricks on their eyes as they quickly walked along the snowy path. Despite their brave statements to Toriel, their nerves were on edge and they weren’t sure if their heart could be beating much faster.

Frisk struggled to keep their eyes forward as another glance to the side seemed to catch yet another moving shadow - that simply ended up being a vine.

_How big is this forest, anyways?_

It had been over an hour since leaving Toriel, and the path had barely bent. Time passed in near-silence as Frisk paced onwards, trying to instead focus on what the implications of Save and Reset might be.

Clearly, the magic wasn’t strong enough to extend beyond the mountain; they had noticed no memory loss or other issues in themself or other humans, not even among the academics who studied in the old capital. The magic was also incapable of actually keeping time in a single period - which made sense, as Frisk couldn’t even begin to wrap their head around how time could be kept still in one place, but not the rest of the world.

They shook their head and rubbed their cold hands together. According to Toriel, it had seemed like only six months had passed. Was that the limit of the magic? A six month period, before it “reset”? Or was that just the current running time since the magic had last been used? 

Frisk worried their chapped lips. Pulling the neck of their sweater up higher yet, they considered the implications. Time moved onwards, but apparently the monsters only had memories for a short period. Or, at least, Toriel did - perhaps it was only affecting her, or the ruins? Was the magic a much more simple - though still complicated - memory spell? How exactly did the six souls come into play, and why only six months ago?

_And why was it taking so long to get through this damn forest?_

Frisk groaned silently. They had made it inside the mountain, but their list of questions was only growing, and apparently someone would be trying to capture them, or worse. Their worries ran circles around their head, and Frisk trudged onwards, unaware of their surroundings.

Precisely then, they tripped and faceplanted in the snow.

With a pained push, Frisk rolled to their side and furiously wiped snow off their face. As ice clung to their eyelashes, they realized what they had tripped over; at their feet lay a glittering spark, something like what a child might think a fallen star would look like.

Frisk moved to a crouching position and lifted their reddened and chapped hands to the spark. It didn’t even emit heat. There was no core, either, and their hand slipped gently through it as if it were merely an illusion.

 _Yet another mystery,_ Frisk thought with a sigh. Still, the corners of their mouth perked upwards. There was something wonderful about this place, about all the mysteries and the possibilities. Questions piled up in Frisk’s mind... yet the chance for so many answers was beginning to overshadow the vague mortal terror that Frisk was dimly aware of in their gut. Looking upwards, Frisk stood once more. For the first time, they admired the towering trees with small looping pillows of snow clinging to what few branches were there. The glitter of fresh powder set the otherwise dark forest into an ethereal relief and filled Frisk with an inexplicable determination.

“Getting tired at last, human?”

Slowly, Frisk turned around. Behind them, in the trees and off the path, a towering shadow spoke from high in a tree.

“I’m getting tired, too. Tired of your _crappy pace_.”

The shadow leaned forward, and at last the distant light caught on their face. Frisk jolted backwards - above them, clinging to a tree with a tattered, fleece-lined trenchcoat fluttering behind them, was an enormous blue fish woman.

The monster grinned at them. It was a gesture glinting with sharp, pointed teeth and offered no reassurance. 

“What, have I left you speechless, shrimp?”

Frisk took a step backwards, unable to look away. The grin faded from the woman’s face, a frown taking it’s place. “Hey, this whole witty banter junk is no fun if you just stand there quietly,” she said, her voice low and smoky. It caught the ear - and whispered danger.

Hands shaking from the cold - or something else - Frisk tentatively signed, [I can only do quiet.]

The monster’s brows furrowed, drawing her bright red eyeshadow, or skin, or scales, down with them. “The heck are you doing with your hands?” Then, she smashed one fist in another in realization and the sound echoed through the forest, knocking snow down from the trees. “You speak in hands, huh? Like that doctor?”

Frisk shielded their gaze from the snow that had been shook loose, and caught a glimpse of the woman shaking her head and shrugging.

“That’s a damn shame, I guess - I don’t do hand speak. Anyways - my name’s Undyne. Thought I should tell you... since I’m about to _kill you_.”

With a flash, she pulled an electric blue spear out of the air and hurled it at Frisk; only their sense for magic managed to warn them in time. They dodged to the side, rolling on their shoulder off the path. Arm deep in snow, Frisk lost their bearing for a moment and was blinded as the spear struck precisely where they had been standing. It flared and faded away, leaving a deep gash in the snowy path.

“Huh. Your reflexes aren’t too bad - for a human,” Undyne said. Frisk quickly glanced upwards, trying to find her. They were forced to drop again and barrel-roll as Undyne crashed spear-first into the snowbank they had been in. Without risking another glance, Frisk scrambled to their feet and took off in a sprint, stumbling through the snowy bank and back onto the path. Laughter echoed behind them, deep and biting. Frisk heart beat wildly as they took a sudden leap, and managed to just dodge another spear - their magical sense was on high alert, and was the only thing working quick enough to keep them from getting killed so far.

A rain of spears began then, an impossible amount, and Frisk twisted and ducked and stumbled in a wild attempt to avoid the crackling energy of each attack. With a sharp cut in the ground, Frisk veered to their right and into the dark forest, bringing up their battered arms to protect their face as they burst through a tangle of branches.

“Clever, human - you’re pretty smart, too!” The jeer almost sounded like praise, but Frisk was too busy trying to dodge between the nearly-identical trees and snow-covered vines to dwell on Undyne’s tone. Spears sliced through the biting chill, smashing through branches and leaving gashes on trees. As Frisk stumbled through a deep patch of snow, a spear nicked their right thigh and they hit the forest floor hard, digging the palms of their hands into the icy-hard forest floor beneath the powder. As they struggled to their feet, they glimpsed the stark red of their blood staining the snow and for a moment their head swam. The cut was deep, deeper than should have been possible for the graze, and they tripped as they put too much weight on the leg. They swore internally at the offensive magic that sliced deeper than it cut, and at the snow melting down their back and at their knees and wrists. They swore at the vines that caught at their boots and scarred their arms, and most vehemently they swore at people not taking the goddamn time to learn sign language. They turned that angry whisper of a thought into flowing sigils trailing from their fingertips, as icy sweat poured down their brow and the snow around them sparkled menacingly with the color of their own blood.

Behind them, they heard the trudging crunch of boots in the snow. Undyne chuckled, so close, so close. “Y’know, I haven’t chased anyone like that in-”

And with a snap of magic burning from their core, Frisk lashed out behind them. A sharp intake of breath, and the snap of wood - from their freezing spot amongst crushed and stained snow, Frisk turned quickly around and saw Undyne double over. Frisk’s magic had caught Undyne in the side, and she clutched it with one arm as she raised the other with spear in hand. 

Frisk fell backwards, scrambling to stand, or run, or hide - anything, anything. Undyne’s face was cast in twisted shadow, that eerie grin stretching as her eyes flashed. She swiped her spear downward, and Frisk found themself unable to move, and everything slowed down. Undyne stepped forward, an unstoppable force moving towards an immoveable object. 

Between unsteady breaths, Undyne spoke low. “He’ll never get your soul. He won’t. You fought a good fight, but I’m not here for that. Not anymore. He’ll never get your soul, I’ll make sure of it.”

The glittering light of distant snow threw Undyne into a striking silhouette towering above Frisk. With the steady hand of desperate sureness, Undyne lifted her free arm and a spear crackled into life in her grasp. Unable to move, Frisk watched as she plunged her spear straight through their heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter again, but I think you can see why...
> 
> Again, you can follow askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com for updates, and you can also talk to the characters that have shown up so far! That now includes Undyne, so I think she's hoping you'll stop by and send something her way~
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts, so leave a comment or just kudos if you can! See you again soon for the next update.


	4. Here and Back Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They were interrupted as Undyne slammed a fist to their chest. She knocked the air out of Frisk,_  
>  and then smashed her forehead against their’s. Stars burst behind Frisk’s eyes as Undyne balled her fists in their sweater.

And a single breath tore life back into Frisk’s core.

They doubled over, falling to the ground and gasping for air as their arms wrapped around their gut. Their eyes opened wide, staring without sight as memory repeated the moment where Undyne plunged her spear into their torso. As they filled their lungs, they pushed and prodded at their gut, desperately trying to find the gaping wound that should be there - but there was nothing, only a slightly icy sweater and whole flesh, and a dull reminder of a throb from their arms.

Shakily they stood, and immediately realized they were also missing the bloody gash on their thigh. Finally, finally, they took in their surroundings - at their feet was the fallen star, and they stood on the path once more. 

“Getting tired at last, human?”

Frisk froze, again. Slowly, they looked up, and again towered Undyne’s terror of a shadow high in a tree. 

“I’m getting tired, too. Tired of your _crappy pace._ ”

Frisk’s mouth hung open, and they just stared at Undyne. Her face caught the soft reflection of light from the surrounding snow, and the same menacing grin spread across her face.

Now, Frisk pointed. It was Undyne’s turn to freeze, confusion and surprise flashing across her face. A moment passed before Frisk raised her hands to sign a question, before they remembered that she couldn’t understand sign language. Frustration flashed across their face - did Undyne realize this had already happened...?

Undyne laughed then, wild and fierce. “What, are you challenging me? Very well, then, human! What’s your name?”

With an annoyed huff, Frisk signed, [You don’t understand me, right?]

Undyne looked quizzically at them, then smashed their fist in the other open palm in realization. The sound echoed through the forest, knocking free snow from spindly branches. Frisk just squinted through it, frowning, and mind working quickly as they took stock of their surroundings.

“You speak in hands, huh? Just like that doctor?”

She doesn’t remember a thing, Frisk thought, widening their stance, only glancing at her now for a moment. What happened? Did I just... see into the future?

“That’s a damn shame, I guess - I don’t do hand speak. Anyways - my name’s Undyne. Thought I should tell you... since I’m about to kill you.”

Without waiting this time, Frisk spun sharply and sprinted down the path back towards the ruins. Behind them they heard Undyne swear, and the crackle of magic. They let their body slip into autopilot as their magic sense warned them to evade, and they jumped to avoid being speared. Meanwhile, their mind worked furiously.

I didn’t see the future, because things aren’t going the same. Plus, I’ve never had that gift anyways - doubt it’d start now. What was it then? Magic, definitely magic… I was-

“You’re DEAD, human!!” Undyne roared behind them. Frisk groaned silently, and strained to pump their legs harder. Their pack slapped against their back painfully, so they looped their thumbs through the straps to pull it snug against their body - like hell it was going to slow them down. They ducked and twisted, evading another barrage of spears.

How long would they have to run, though? They had left the ruins hours ago, and Toriel herself said that the doors would be locked.

With a skid and a bit of a fumble, Frisk turned back around. In one fluid movement, they slipped their pack off their shoulders and deposited it in the middle of the path before charging forward - straight towards Undyne.

I’m either going to live or test out one hell of a theory, Frisk thought furiously as they reached for the spark at their core. They used it to rope in magic - they hadn’t noticed before just how unruly it felt here, how it shied away from their reach. Furiously, now, hands dashing signs into the air, they heaved, and wrenched the magic into their palms. Undyne was approaching quickly, slight confusion twisting her expression. Frisk had to spin to avoid the next spear as Undyne was getting too close.

Only one chance- 

With a painful slam, Frisk dropped as a spear slashed through the air, connecting their palm with the ground. Energy blasted outwards, and Frisk felt all their wounds reopen; suddenly, the trunk of a tree next to them snapped, crashing downward forcefully as Undyne raised another spear. Undyne leaped backwards, slamming her spear into the ground at her feet to propel her - and she did a flip in the air, just because she could.

Frisk’s arms gave out, pain lancing through them as they felt the spark in their core flicker and nearly go out. They felt blood soaking the bandages beneath their sweater, and struggled to push themselves over, to look up. With a snarl, Undyne summoned another spear and came charging towards them as they managed to come to their knees. She leaped over the fallen tree as if it were nothing for than a puddle, and threw the spear straight through Frisk’s torso.

*********

Frisk crashed to the ground, vision flashing white as they gasped for air. Their arms caught their fall, preventing yet another faceful of snow. Sweat beaded at their brow, and they struggled to orient themself as the world spun beneath their freezing palms. 

Their bandages felt clean again, and Frisk drew in a shaky breath in relief. The fallen star lay by their side, twinkling softly. They stared at the apparition, wonder and frustration warring in their heart.

“Getting tired at last, human?”

Frisk’s fists clenched in the snow. Exhaustion pulled at their center, and they tried to reach for their spark as they managed to pull themselves to their feet.

In horror, they found their spark still dim, weak and barely even there.

“I’m getting tired, too. Tired of your _crappy pace._ ”

Frisk wasn’t paying attention. Raising their hands, they twisted their palms upward and stared at the deep, worn lines on them, shaking and sore. Concentrating, they tried to pull at the strange magic that laid beneath Mt. Ebott. It slipped away from them, as if they weren’t grasping for it in the right way, and their current power was far too low to wrangle it regardless. 

Undyne cleared her throat. Frisk looked upwards at last, meeting the gaze of the warrior monster. Their head swam as they did so, the path twisting under their feet. 

[We can’t talk, still,] Frisk signed weakly.

Undyne slammed one fist into the other open palm in realization. Snow was knocked from the surrounding trees by the resounding shockwave. “Oh, you speak in hands, huh? Like that doctor?”

White crept in at the edges of Frisk’s vision. They swayed where the stood, straining to stay upright. The light reflecting in the forest had caught Undyne’s face again, but instead of a terror-inducing fierceness, her face reflected an expression of concerned confusion.

“Human, you might want to look sharp, since I’m about to-”

And with nothing more than a silent “oh,” Frisk lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

*********

_The air wavered in front of the younger Frisk as their mom scooped them up. Smoke and heat distorted their vision, and their eyes watered as smoke crept into their lungs. Cradled against her chest, they tried to block everything out by closing their eyes and burying their face in her neck. Vibrations running by their cheek as their mom cried out tickled, however, so they glanced up, looking where their mom was looking, at their other mother by the window. Horrible pulsing vines had forced their way in and were wrapping themselves around the room as Frisk felt their mom take a shuddering step back. Quickly then, with a choked sob, she ran - but not before Frisk saw the blood pooling at their other mother’s feet._

Frisk’s eyes opened to a crackling campfire. 

“No, I don’t know what I’m going to do with them-”

Their arms were bound to their side, and they seemed to be tied to a tree. A brief tug proved fruitless; whoever had put them there knew what they were doing.

“Well, you can tell him that we’ll figure it out!”

The clearing had a small handful of small tents, backed up against the bottom of an enormous cliff. The campfire was close by, but there didn’t appear to be anybody walking around the campsite.

“He’s gotta stall, then!”

Finally Frisk’s eyes caught the shadow at the edge of the treeline. It was Undyne - it must have been, with the tattered winter trench coat and the towering stature. Her back was turned, and her posture was tense - she flung one arm out in frustration then, gesturing angrily.

“Why do you gotta ask so many questions?” she growled.

“I mean, I - I think he’s just trying to help,” said a second voice, growing from a whisper. Frisk tried to lean over to see the source. 

“But why do you gotta be so damn cryptic, then? Huh, doc?” 

“H-he’s kind of stuck that way, I mean - w-wait, what was that, sir?”

Undyne crossed her arms, grunting as she waited for something. Just at the edge of the shadows, Frisk could see a hunched over shape, sporting a worn red winter coat that bulged where a tail exited the bottom. Both were facing a spot deeper within the shadows, where the darkness twisted and pulled. Frisk’s eyes wanted to slip over the spot, and their head started to ache as they tried to focus on it.

“He’s saying that stalling only works so well when the king demands results,” the smaller monster said, looking up at Undyne.

“We’re all trying to get results,” Undyne grumbled. Frisk’s head throbbed from the effort of trying to look at the twisted shadow, and finally looked away as their eyes began to water. Out of their peripheral vision then, just at the edge of sight, they saw a tall, faded being in the darkness. His hands and face were bright white, and the rest of him appeared to be a black darker than the color itself should be able to be. His hands flowed and shifted, strange after-images following as they formed signs in the air.

“H-he says that if we’re not going to take the human’s soul, that we better come up with another plan, and quick.”

Undyne shifted her hands to her hips and looked away. “I’d figured that much out.”

A shiver wracked through Frisk’s body as their nerves finally caught up with how cold it was. They drew a deep stuttering breath, trying to suppress a sneeze - and sneezed all the louder, knocking their head back against the tree. Undyne twisted around, and the darkness righted itself behind her, fading back into shadows that could be looked at without difficulty.

She strode over, waving a hand behind her in beckoning. The smaller monster followed after her quickly, and as the two strode into the light of the campfire Frisk could at last see that the new monster was some kind of yellow lizard, or dinosaur, bundled up in her wintercoat with a pair of circular glasses settled on her snout.

“Welcome back from snooze-land, human!” Undyne said with a harsh grin. “I’ve got a few questions for you,” she added as she came to a stop a few feet away. Frisk tried to look up, but couldn’t turn their head up far enough. The smaller monster cleared their throat and Undyne paused, then crouched down.

A frown settled on Frisk’s face. They stared at Undyne, one eyebrow pulling down as the other went upward. To punctuate their silent reminder, they tugged at the ropes binding their hands to their side.

Undyne grinned again. “Yeah, yeah, Ms. Handspeak. That’s where Alphy is gonna come in,” and she gestured for the new monster to come closer.

“H-hello, human - my name’s Alphys,” she began, scooching closer. “You c-can understand us, right?”

Frisk nodded. Alphys sighed in relief, and a nervous smile pulled at her mouth. She looked at Undyne then, peering out from behind her glasses expectantly. With a forceful sigh, Undyne reached into her coat and snapped a knife out from a belt at her waist. Carefully, without cutting the ties that kept Frisk bound to the tree, she freed Frisk’s hands and most of their arms from their bindings. With a relieved huff, Frisk stretched their hands, working the blood flow back into them. 

“Now, who are you?” Undyne asked impatiently, knife returned to its sheath.

Frisk sighed. [My name is Frisk, and I’m not a ‘she’, I’m a ‘they’.]

Alphys spoke then, while still watching Frisk. “Their name is Frisk, and they’re asking that you not call them ‘she,’ but ‘they,’” she said. Frisk raised a brow at her for the slight liberties in her translation, but Alphys shrugged minutely with a sympathetic smile and looked at Undyne. 

Undyne nodded. “Okay, then, Frisk. What are you doing here?”

[I’ve been looking for answers about Mount Ebott for a long time, for personal reasons. I didn’t find them, so I took matters into my own hands.] They paused while Alphys translated. [The vines, they’re not only down here. They took over the mountain outside, and the nearby old capital. They don’t respond to any modern human magic, and a lot of old magic. I managed to work my way inside, but I had become exhausted near the top and had to run for it as the vines closed. I fell into the mountain when I ran into a cave.]

Undyne stared at Frisk as Alphys continued to translate, and stayed quiet for several moments following. Alphys glanced between Undyne and Frisk.

“Okay, that seems to be the truth. Then what are your plans down here?”

[So far, I’ve been trying to survive,] Frisk signed. [But I’m still trying to figure out what happened - particularly when the vines came. But now that I’m here, I’m only finding myself with more questions. Things don’t seem to be right down here.]

As Alphys finished translating, Undyne scowled. “Well, you’re right about that last part, at least. So six months ago, the vines took over, and you’ve been researching or whatever since then?”

Frisk paused, glancing to the side. Hesitation pulled at their expression as they debated whether to tell them that six months wasn’t exactly the right timeframe.

Undyne’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t hide anything. I’ll know, so just spit it out.” 

Slowly, Frisk signed, [Not six months ago.]

“W-what?” Alphys asked, leaning forward. Undyne looked between her and Frisk now, left in the dark.

“What? What did they say?” she demanded.

“They say that- that it’s been 15 years,” Alphys said, still staring at Frisk. Frisk nodded, grimacing.

“Since what?”

“Since the vines came.”

Undyne whipped her head back to Frisk.

[It’s true - I met someone in the ruins, Toriel, who thought that it had been six months too, but-] they were interrupted as Undyne slammed a fist to their chest. She knocked the air out of Frisk,  
and then smashed her forehead against their’s. Stars burst behind Frisk’s eyes as Undyne balled her fists in their sweater.

“I swear, if you’re lying-” 

Frisk shook their head vigorously, stars shooting through their head painfully. Blearily, they met Undyne’s wild gaze, and began to sign shakily. Alphys peered around Undyne’s arms to catch their words.

[15 years, I swear it. I was seven when they first came, and it’s a night I’ll never forget - I was in the capital with my parents. They killed my…] Frisk swallowed painfully as Alphys translated. Undyne slackened her hold on Frisk’s sweater, just a little. [Anyways. It’s been 15 years. Apparently, you only remember it as being six months.]

Undyne searched their face, her own forehead dangerously close to touching Frisk’s sore one once again. At last, “Okay then. Let’s say you’re right - and I’m not convinced yet - but let’s say you are. Why the hell do we only remember it having been six months ago?”

[Have you ever heard of Save and Reset?]

Alphys clapped her hands to her mouth. Undyne groaned. “What is it now?”

“W-well… you know that research that I had been doing about a year ago? About- about Save and Reset?”

“Yeah, but it ended up being a bust. The amount of determination you had to have…” Undyne trailed off. Slowly she released her hold on Frisk, and sat back on her heels. “Oh hell. You’re not saying… you think that the king…”

Alphys nodded her head. “I- I mean, it would… it would explain a lot. The nightmares, how they’re always one, two steps ahead-”

“Usually more,” Undyne added. “And how everyone has this feeling…”

“That we’ve done this before,” Alphys finished. She held her head in her hands, eyes sightlessly scanning the ground as she thought aloud. “So maybe then… that’s what he meant when he said that we can’t think like ourselves, that we can’t react on a whim…”

“That old doctor’s too smart for where he’s stuck,” Undyne said under her breath.

Frisk waved to get their attention. As if they had forgotten Frisk was there, Undyne and Alphys looked at them in surprise. 

[I’m glad you do, but… why are you so ready to believe me? About Save and Reset?]

Alphys and Undyne looked at each other. Weariness had settled deep into Alphys’ scales, and Undyne’s were etched with frustration and exhaustion.

“We knew that something was up,” Undyne began. She pulled the fluffy hood of her coat up closer around her neck, better covering a set of gills Frisk hadn’t noticed earlier. “The nightmares… our nightmares… they were nearly identical, or at least they lined up. Nightmares about things that happened in the Underground, to ourselves and to our friends.”

“T-the doctor, a former one, also hinted at it. He said, he said that we needed to be creative and not think like ourselves, because they’ve seen it all before, and they’d be ages ahead of us,” Alphys said.

Undyne scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s so easy to think like someone other than yourself.” She jammed a thumb at her chest, her other hand on her hip. “I’m amazing! I think great thoughts! Why wouldn’t I wanna think like me?”

Alphys chuckled, and Frisk couldn’t help the smile that tugged at their own mouth. Grumbling under her breath, Undyne looked away. There might have been a slightly deeper blue flush to her cheeks.

“Y-you are great, but he wouldn’t have warned us without a reason,” Alphys replied, her own cheeks flushing slightly. She turned to Frisk after a moment, looking at them thoughtfully. “F-Frisk, what were you planning to do from here on out?”

[Well, outside of the more immediate goal of ‘becoming untied,’ I wanted to help, actually. I mean, I know you don’t know me, and I still definitely want my own answers, but I can’t help but wanna help - and take out the source of those vines myself,] Frisk signed. Their motions became sharp and hard as they finished, and Undyne noticed it as Alphys translated. She regarded Frisk seriously. Then, with a sudden movement, she pulled her knife back out and cut the knot that bound the ropes to Frisk. 

As they fell slack, Undyne slid her knife back into place at her hip and stood. She extended a hand down to Frisk; only a split moment passed before Frisk grabbed it and was hauled to their feet. They stumbled for a moment, blood rushing back to their legs as it felt like tiny needles pricked at every nerve. Frisk rubbed them briskly, then looked back at Undyne.

Her face was serious as she considered Frisk. Then, it split into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. “We could use a little something unexpected on our side, I’m thinking,” she said. “And I do mean little - you’re short as hell, Frisk!” She laughed, roughly mussing the top of Frisk’s head, turning the loose dark curls wild. They grimaced and tried to right their hair, but gave up after a moment. Alphys was smiling at them too, now.

“W-we’re not a very large team - we’ve lost some people, and others are too scared to do anything,” Alphys admitted as the smile faded some. “But, we’re ready to do what it takes. I’m guessing you don’t know a lot about what’s been going on, at least not yet?”

“They don’t gotta worry about that, we’ll fill ‘em in!” Undyne slapped Frisk on the shoulder, sending them straight back down to the ground. “Woops,” she laughed, pulling them up once more - this time, a little more gently. Frisk grimaced, rolling their shoulders as their arms ached in protest. Still, they glanced between the two monsters, and smiled back at them.

“Alright, well we’ve got most the camp out doing some recon or some prep work, so you’ll have to wait on the introductions,” Undyne said, looking towards the camp. “But we can give you a quick tour before getting down to business. How are you at fighting? I feel like you’d put up a good one,” she added thoughtfully, looking down at Frisk. 

Frisk smiled in return, patting one bicep before signing, [I know a thing or two.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The return of a long chapter! 
> 
> I wonder if some pieces are beginning to fit together for you all... Or perhaps you have more questions? If so, please head over to askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com and ask your questions - address it to any of the characters who have shown up thus far!
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think - I am filled with DETERMINATION to keep writing whenever I get to hear from you :)


	5. Deep in the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Undyne was approaching the bottom of the cliff at an alarming rate - Frisk could tell by how little snow was on the ground here. They pounded a fist urgently on her back, trying to catch the attention of the warrior who apparently had lost all inhibitions and sense. As they reached the bottom of the cliff, Undyne leaped, and Frisk had the air knocked out of them with the sheer force of the jump._

“Look alive, short stuff!”

Frisk dove to one side immediately. As they righted themself, they planted both hands on the ground and tried to scan the surrounding woods. 

“Your eyes can only see so much, Frisk,” a voice growled from Frisk’s back. Before they could spin around, a foot connected firmly with their rear and they were sent face-first into a bank of snow.

Undyne roared with laughter as Frisk pushed themselves upward with a scowl. They stood and wiped the snow and ice off their face and let out a disgruntled huff.

“You’re not gonna get the jump on anyone if you rely on those wimpy human eyes of yours, kid!”

Frisk stuck their tongue out at her. Undyne chuckled, and tapped one fist against her chest. 

“You gotta listen to what you’re hearin’ from in here,” she said. 

With a sigh, Frisk placed one hand on their chest, just over their heart. They frowned, trying to listen to it, but all they noticed was its soft thump thump. Looking back up at Undyne, exasperation on their face, they shook their head.

“I know, I figure humans don’t got as much of a sense for it. But we’ll get you to start listenin’ the right way, one way or another,” she said with a toothy grin. Frisk rolled their eyes, but grinned in reply. Lifting one finger, they pointed back towards camp and raised their hands and shoulders in a shrug of question.

Undyne nodded. “Yeah, I figure it’s about time we head back too. Gotta get some grub, anyways.” She took off towards the camp, her long legs lending a fast pace despite the leisurely way she held herself. Frisk jogged quickly to catch up, walking quickly as they came shoulder to shoulder. In the week that had passed since meeting Undyne they had gotten used to the disparity in their natural pace, and didn’t have to work consciously to match it naturally anymore.

“So we got some intel that the king’s new guard is on high alert for a human right now,” Undyne said, eyes drifting downward to look at Frisk. Frisk frowned, then pointed a finger at themself.

“Yeah, I figure somebody might’ve finally caught wind about you being here,” she said with a shake of her head. “It was really just a matter of time, anyways. You said you met Pap, right? Back in the ruins?” Frisk nodded in reply. They wanted to add that Papyrus had seemed trustworthy, if a bit guarded - but Undyne still didn’t know much sign language, so they waited for Undyne to continue. 

She chewed her lip, hands tucked deep into the pockets of her thick trenchcoat. Finally, she muttered, “Yeah, I don’t think it was him. Call it a hunch, but I feel something else happened - I dunno about a traitor... but somebody’s been snooping for sure.” Undyne huffed as the camp came into view. “I think we’re gonna have to make a move, soon.”

Grim anticipation settled in Frisk’s core. They knew that the camp would only be a safe haven for a short period of time, but they had grown fond of the strange bunch of monsters and the sparring matches with Undyne; the cooking lessons that she had given Frisk while Alphys scrambled to keep the camp from catching on fire; the way the other monsters had slowly opened up to her, including how a blue rabbit-man who went by “NC” would procure a kind ice cream late at night, or how the little fire monster that made his home in the campfire would tell her outrageous stories about the Underground. Frisk knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long, but still - it was the first time in a long time they had felt so… at home.

“F-Frisk, Undyne, I’ve got some bad news,” Alphys called out to them from the center of a small crowd around the campfire. Undyne picked up her pace and quickly approached the scientist, with Frisk in tow.

“What’s up, Alphy?” Undyne asked, concern in her voice.

“Well, Heats Flamesmen, u-uh,” Alphys began, looking down at the campfire. She looked frustrated and embarrassed, and her glasses kept slipping down her nose.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO, IT JUST, YOU KNOW, IT LOOKED SO GOOD,” the fire interrupted with a shout. A mouth and eyes appeared, and Frisk grinned in greeting when they caught his gaze. Heats waved a small extension of fire in reply, then looked at Undyne. “I’ve been getting low on wood, and no one was paying attention to me! I sure as fire wasn’t going to go out on that snow, so, you know…” he looked away from Undyne’s stare, sheepish.

“Did you actually ask anyone for more wood, sparky?” Undyne said, her voice low.

“Well, uh, I mean,” he grumbled.

“W-what he means is, he kept yelling ‘THE BRIGHT FLAME BURNS ETERNAL,’ and everyone ignored him since he did it yesterday too,” Alphys interjected, pushing her glasses back up her snout.

Undyne narrowed her eyes at the fire. Heats dimmed a little, and wouldn’t look upward. With a sigh, she shook her head. “Well, that was it for our rations today, so we’re gonna have to send a party out again,” she said, turning to the rest of the crowd. A groan passed through the group. “Yeah, yeah, I know, second time this week, shut it. We got a lotta mouths to feed, and some of y’all ain’t willing to eat smaller portions.” The crowd quieted at this, and there was more than one shuffling set of feet or tails.

“So, n-now we gotta start the next shift of getting rations. Next team up, you’re up e-early,” Alphys said, trying to move things forward. There were the beginnings of grumblings, but one sharp look from Undyne towering at Alphys’ back silenced them. Frisk hid a smile behind their hand as the crowd dispersed.

“Hope you’re not thinkin’ that you’re getting off easy,” Undyne said then, glancing down at Frisk with another grin. Frisk’s brow drew down, and Alphys turned to look at them.

[What do you mean? I’ve been doing all sorts of camp duties!] Frisk signed. Alphys took up translating quickly with a small grin of her own.

Undyne waved a hand, as if shooing off a fly. “Nah, kid, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about that little secret mission we had discussed,” she replied.

[What secret- oh.] 

Alphys laughed when she translated it, but Undyne hardly needed the help as she was already laughing at the look of surprise and deep concern on Frisk’s face.

[Isn’t it too soon, still? What if they find me?]

“Ohhh, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, Frisk,” Undyne said, struggling to keep a straight face. “Alphys has got just the thing for you.”

Frisk really didn’t like the look of glee that the two monster women were sharing. Without waiting for a reply, Undyne scooped Frisk up and slung them over their shoulder, taking off at a sprint for the cliff. Frisk clung to the back of her jacket, spitting hair out of their mouth and fighting the urge to kick their legs and squirm, or else be dropped. Alphys was hurrying after them, trailing in Undyne’s wake, and waving off the confused and amused monsters who were staring after Frisk and Undyne.

Undyne was approaching the bottom of the cliff at an alarming rate - Frisk could tell by how little snow was on the ground here. They pounded a fist urgently on her back, trying to catch the attention of the warrior who apparently had lost all inhibitions and sense. As they reached the bottom of the cliff, Undyne leaped, and Frisk had the air knocked out of them with the sheer force of the jump. Undyne’s foot met the cliff and she pushed, running several steps up the vertical face against all of Frisk’s understanding of gravity - then, with another gut-wrenching jolt, Undyne pushed off the cliff and jumped back towards the forest, now several dozen feet in the air - and straight towards a small structure built high in one of the closest trees. Undyne burst through the canvas flaps that marked its entrance and rolled to a stop inside. Frisk, of course, kept rolling, and only came to a stop when they hit the furthest wall. 

Stars winked in Frisk’s vision as they flopped onto their back and tried to catch their breath. Undyne sat up casually and started laughing, a bright grin bringing a little more flush to her face. As they caught their breath, Frisk saw Alphys’ face poke through the canvas flap as she clambered into the room.

“You could have used the l-ladder,” she said.

“But what kinda fun is that?” Undyne replied. Frisk sat up at last, the stars finally gone from their vision. Glancing around the small treehouse, they noticed two sleeping bags pushed together on one side, a wall full of scraps of paper filled with notes and diagrams and a few spear-tip shaped holes, and a couple of large satchels resting near the entrance. Alphys turned to these, picked one up, and trotted over to Undyne eagerly.

“I think it’s towards the bottom,” she said as she sat next to Undyne. She began tearing through the bag, tossing its contents behind her onto the sleeping bags. Undyne whooped, cheering her on as Frisk cracked a nervous smile.

After a physics-defying amount of stuff had been pulled out of the bag, Alphys stuck her hand in once more and rummaged around the bottom of it, peering thoughtfully inside. Undyne leaned forward, the pure, wicked excitement on her face bringing a nervous flutter to Frisk’s gut. 

“Here!” 

With a flourish, Alphys pulled out two items. Frisk’s jaw dropped.

In her claws, Alphys held a pair of very convincing cat ears situated on a headband, and a long, fluffy cat tail.

“Don’t get cold feet now,” Undyne said. Frisk glared at her, sticking their tongue out.

“I- I made them myself,” Alphys added.

[Why do I need to wear that?] Frisk signed, slightly desperate as they felt their cheeks flush.

“Well, we can’t have you wandering around the Underground looking like a human, can we?” Undyne said, shaking her head.

[And a headband is supposed to fix that?]

“A-actually, yeah!” Alphys interrupted. “These are special - I programmed a special kind of magic in them, a sort of ‘don’t look too closely at me’ magic,” she finished, glancing nervously to the side.

“Basically, you’ll not only look like a monster, but other monsters won’t think to look closer or suspect you even if you’re a new face!” Undyne finished, patting Alphys on the back proudly. Alphys crashed to the floor, but hurriedly righted herself.

Frisk stared at the ensemble in Alphys’ hands. Their cheeks were on fire. Embarrassment tightened their chest as they tried to think of another option.

“Besides, it’s gotta be you - Alphy and I can pop in to certain places, but we’re too well-known for going AWOL to show up anywhere safely,” Undyne added.

Eyes closing, Frisk sighed deeply. Slowly, they extended an open hand, palm up. Alphys squealed as she shoved the items into Frisk’s hands.

“I’ll help you set them up right! Okay, h-here, the tail actually fastens like this - ooh, s-sorry, I know my claws are c-cold - okay, and the headband, n-need to part your hair just - mmhm, and then we - yeah! Okay, it’ll stay in place l-like that, try shaking your head - good, perfect! Ohhhhh my g-”

“SHAKE YOUR BUTT, TOO,” Undyne roared with a laugh. The treehouse shook with it, and Frisk’s face might as well have fully combusted. 

[It fits fine,] they signed quickly, and Alphys clapped her hands.

“Oh good! I mean, I had designed it for my-” she quickly clapped her hands to her mouth. Frisk narrowed their eyes at her, gears turning in their mind. A smile spread across their face, then-

[Alphys… were you going to cos-]

“NOPE NOTHING LIKE THAT NO WAY OKAY UNDYNE LET’S GET THEM GOING!”

Undyne jumped at Alphys’ shout, but nodded her head, still grinning. “Er - that’s true, we gotta get you there in time for dinner. Mkay, Frisky, just keep those on and no one will think to look at you twice.”

“B-but don’t do anything to attract attention either,” Alphys added. “They keep you from being noticed as out of the ordinary, but that won’t stop people from noticing if you’re causing trouble or making a scene.”

[Got it,] Frisk signed.

“We’ll o-obviously know it’s you, since the magic doesn’t work on people who know it’s there. We’ll walk you around the c-camp, though, so we don’t start confusing everyone.”

Wanting to leave before they tried to add anything else to the ensemble, Frisk nodded and strode to the canvas flaps. Now able to see the small ladder that led up to the treehouse, Frisk climbed swiftly down, careful to not tangle the tail - their tale - in their legs.

Undyne landed with a snowy thump beside them, a furiously flushed Alphys scooped in their arms. They made eye contact for a long moment - and Undyne quickly but gently set Alphys down. 

“I’ve got a bit of a map for you,” Undyne said, pulling a crumpled paper from her pocket and beginning to walk. “Alphy has gotta keep an eye on our favorite losers at camp, so I’ll walk you to the edge.”

“G-good luck, Frisk!” Alphys called as they left. “L-lemme know how you like the ears and tail!”

Frisk blushed, again. They raised a hand up to the fluffy ears poking out of the headband, feeling the material once more - and jolting as they felt themself, as if the ears were their own. The ears poked upwards in surprise, catching distant noise in the camp as well as the hard crunch of the snow as they stepped too hard.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?” Undyne said, looking down at Frisk. They looked upward, craning their neck to catch Undyne’s expression. “Alphy’s a total genius, and a nerd. I love it,” she grinned, clenching her fist. “That kinda passion! That’s a lotta technical magic, makin’ something like that work even on a human.”

Frisk nodded, understanding the implications. They put one hand to their chin thoughtfully, their tail twitching behind them.

Once more, they jolted. Their tail whippped around them, curling defensively towards their front.

“Yeah, she’s thorough, too.”

Marvelling in horror and awe, Frisk gently touched their makeshift tail. They shivered at how sensitive it was, but then grinned as they played more with it, whipping it around to curl at their face, flick snow towards Undyne, and keep their balance better.

“Knew you’d like it,” Undyne said with a laugh. “You’re a natural at it - you’d’ve made a good monster!”

Frisk’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh. They walked amicably for a few minutes, Undyne punching Frisk’s shoulder when they managed to flick a branch of snow into Undyne’s face.

“Alright, you gotta take it from here,” she said finally, pausing at a nondescript tree. “Straight on through here, you’ll hit the path, and follow the map from there.”

Frisk nodded, sticking one hand in their pants pocket to feel the map.

“Remember, straight to Grillby’s. Stick around for a bit, get the information. Don’t try and be a star, but you’ll figure out that the regulars there are a weird wealth of information,” she finished.

Silently, Frisk held up a fist, their forearm at an angle. Undyne held up her own, and they bumped forearms together in an X. With a quick grin at Undyne, Frisk took off, ears perking up as they waded through drifts of snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Things got a little intense with the holidays and some in-law situations, but Darker Yet Darker is back for the new year!
> 
> Feel free to send in some asks to new characters - you'll probably be able to guess a few of the not-so-subtle mentions, so please go and talk to whomever you'd like at askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com. 
> 
> A certain big character will be coming in next chapter, so keep an eye out for the next update, and let me know what you think about the shenanigans and more in this one! I love hearing from you all, it's been giving me the determination to keep going <3


	6. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"... cat got your tongue?"_

Powdery puffs of snow drifted and resettled at the corners of the insecure bridge. Frisk resisted the urge to grumble and kick the worn wooden boards as their stomach growled. As they planted their feet on firm ground once again, sweet, firm ground, their eyes fell on an enormous, cheerily lit sign welcoming them to Snowdin. A few of the lights were cracked and unlit, and the letters were faded, but the jaunty way that even the snow laid made a small smile perk up Frisk’s mouth and new ears. 

Frisk crumpled up the scrap of paper with the worst map imaginable on it and shoved it deep into their pocket. Alphys had taken the time to draw small sketches of Frisk and Undyne and some of the other rebels, but had apparently run out of time before she could include a scale key, or clear labels, or correct turning directions.

Warmth spilled out of the windows lining what seemed to pass for the main street of the town. Worn tracks had rendered the snowy lane all but smooth, and Frisk scanned each small house and building for the sign marking their destination. Despite the glow from each house, a chill ran up Frisk’s arms. Their new ears flattened slightly as they moved forward, past a lovingly decorated spruce tree with wrapped boxes underneath. They passed an off shooting path, but their gut kept them moving forward.

At last on their left rose a blocky building lit by a weathered sign with “GRILLBY’S” inscribed in bold on it. The windows were textured and cloudy, but it seemed well enough lit inside. Frisk placed one hand on their chest. They faced the door and took a deep, deep breath - and pushed the worn door and entered.

The bar was thrumming with voices and movement. Frisk had to force themself to keep their eyes moving alongside their feet. Monsters of all shapes and sizes lounged in dim booths and crowded around lopsided - but spotless - tables. A particularly exuberant group of dog monsters had cards and plastic chips scooped in their paws, switching between barking amicably and fruitlessly trying to hide the droop or wags of their tails. On the other side of the room was a monster who appeared to be all teeth and drool, and Frisk’s tail swished when they noticed the monster in a far corner thumping their head on a warped jukebox. Around the bar echoed a slightly glitchy but oddly disarming tune.

The only single seats free were at the bar, so Frisk tried to meander as casually as they could over to the closest stools. With a quick slip onto the one second from the corner, they took the chance to look around the bar itself. At the other end, a few monsters were leaning onto the counter in slurred debate with the well-dressed monster made purely of flames on the other side of the counter. Realizing that the burning barkeep must be Grillby himself, Frisk leaned back to stop staring.

Their fingers drummed along the bartop. The dull sound was lost in the bar’s noise and music. The bar’s counter itself was a deeply stained wood, rich and beautiful and protected by a smooth, transparent casing of some kind. The cool surface warmed under their fingertips as they traced the intricate grain of the wood below. Slowly, the surface heated till Frisk felt like their hands were resting on a mug full of hot cider. The clear surface reflected the shifting light of the bar, and finally Frisk lifted their head.

Fire flickered in front of her as the fire barkeep himself met their gaze behind his thin-framed glasses. Or that’s what Frisk assumed; Grillby didn’t seem to have any distinguishing facial features, including eyes. His hands, firey and slender but large, held a glass that they were polishing with a pristine rag. Frisk stared at him, eyes wide and cat ears straight up. They stared at each other for several moments. Frisk felt a bead of sweat roll down their temple, and knew it had nothing to do with the gentle heat rolling off the monster in front of them.

“He wan’s t’ know wha’ y’ wan’,” slurred a voice down the bar. The drunken fish monster that had spoken sloppily saluted Frisk’s surprised face with a glass of something dark and foaming before collapsing into giggles after his attempted translation. A brow lifted on Frisk’s face as they looked back at Grillby. He seemed to ignore the other patron, but what might have been a flicker of a flame eyebrow moved upwards in question.

Frisk bit their lip. Grillby’s hands moved in a steady motion, still shining the glass.

With a sigh, Frisk lifted their hands. [I can’t speak aloud,] they signed.

This time, the eyebrows were two bright orange streaks, and they both lifted on Grillby’s shifting face. He set down the glass and rag and lifted his hands. He gave a brisk tug at the crisp white cuffed sleeves that had settled at his wrists.

[You speak in hands?] Grillby signed.

Frisk gawked, eyes darting between his hands and his glasses. A wide smile began to spread across their face, lighting their eyes as bright as the fire they reflected.

[You do as well?] they signed eagerly.

[Naturally,] he replied. [I was born without the ability to speak in perceptible auditory wavelengths.] His hands flowed beautifully, and Frisk was enthralled with the way the fire of his hands shifted as he moved them.

Frisk beamed. [Same here,] they replied with a silent laugh. [How’d you get into such a talkative business, then?]

Grillby shook his head. [You would be surprised at how many monsters seem to prefer that someone who cannot speak aloud be the one to serve their food and choice poisons.]

[Especially when those poisons make them awfully talkative?]

[I believe so,] Grillby replied. His shoulders shook lightly, and the fire of his head burned a little lighter. Was he laughing? Frisk leaned in.

[I haven’t been around here much before,] Frisk signed. [Anything interesting been going on in Snowdin?]

Grillby’s hands stayed still for several moments. Frisk fought their nerves, keeping their face casually curious. Their tail swayed gently, disarmingly nonchalant. 

[More of the usual,] Grillby signed slowly. [Things have been quiet, mostly. Everyone is keeping their heads down,] he shrugged. Frisk caught the odd flicker of his hands at “everyone.”

Grillby shifted. [So, what can I get you, ah, …?]

[Ky,] Frisk signed quickly. They winced internally, but at least they had the presence of mind to not give their real name.

The flicker of Grillby’s eyebrow made Frisk’s feet fidget and kick at the bar. 

[Ky, then,] he finally replied. [What shall it be, Ky?]

Frisk paused. What did a monster normally order at a bar?

“i’d suggest the fries or a burger, myself.”

Too deeply entrenched in the shifting signs of the bartender, Frisk hadn’t noticed the monster that had slid onto the only stool to their right. Their cat ears flattened - something in Frisk’s core felt odd. They stared at the newcomer, unable to make out their features behind the wrinkled white coat and its large unfolded collar.

“what’s the matter, kid? cat got your tongue?” the monster asked. Frisk’s face twitched to exasperation despite itself. It was at that moment the monster turned to look at Frisk, and their ears jumped straight back up as Frisk nearly fell off the barstool.

Next to them sat a skeleton wearing a dark, worn turtleneck underneath what seamed to be a wrinkled and worn labcoat. He stared at Frisk with the white pinpricks that seemed to be the pupils of his impossibly black eye sockets. An incredibly pleased shit-eating grin was plastered across his face as he leaned casually against the bar top.

“am i right, though, Grillbz’?” the skeleton turned to Grillby. Frisk fought their instinct and turned to look at the bartender as well. Grillby shrugged, then turned his face to Frisk.

[I can make most things, but yes, many patrons order this,] he signed.

“heh. been awhile since you were able to get handsy, huh pal?” The skeleton chuckled at his own joke. The flames of Grillby’s head flared up and back down in a smooth motion, as if he had rolled his eyes.

[Sure, Grillby, I’ll take some fries,] Frisk signed. [Thank you,] they added with a smile. Grillby nodded. As he turned to walk away, the skeleton propped his chin lazily on one hand.

“i’ll take some too. extra ketchup,” he called out to Grillby’s retreating back. Grillby simply waved a hand back at him.

Frisk suddenly wished they had some sort of book or literally anything to occupy themself with. Anything to not have to-

“so you’re a new face,” the skeleton said. So much for that, then.

Frisk nodded.

“i can sign, so no worries. the name’s Sans,” he continued with a wink. A deep shadowy line scooped under the inner corners of each eye, and Frisk wondered if skeletons needed to sleep. 

“don’t you know how to greet a new pal?” Sans stuck out his hand. Frisk simply stared at it, arms crossed on the bar.

“guess you try ‘n play it smart, heh. it’s okay, though, i don’t bite.” He left the hand extended. Frisk’s brow raised, as they looked from his hand to his lazy grin and black eyes. Finally, Frisk shook it.

“usually,” he added. He grinned wider at them, exposing more of his teeth. They flashed in the dim light of the bar and turned into fangs, each point glinting dangerously. Frisk tried to yank their hand back, but it stayed firmly stuck in Sans’ light grasp. Something disgustingly sticky held it in place. Sans’ arm didn’t even budge.

He chuckled as the fangs disappeared and his grin once again showed only normal teeth. The sound was as deep and gravelly as his voice. “i’m kitten. i’m not gonna bite you. i’d probably cough up a furball if i did,” he said. Frisk couldn’t help rolling their eyes and grimacing. They tugged again, hand still stuck.

[I can’t sign well like this,] Frisk managed, switching between signs and spelling. They glared at the skeleton, who still grinned at them.

“well, ya never properly introduced yourself,” he shrugged, as if poor social grace was the reason for the prank. Frisk’s eyes rolled again. Their head was starting to ache with the motion.

[Ky,] they begrudgingly signed. Sans stared at them, and Frisk stared back, the corner of their mouth turning down.

Two baskets of fries slid to a perfect stop in front of each of them. Frisk looked up, catching the glint of Grillby’s glasses. He slid a bottle of ketchup into Sans’ waiting free hand.

[Thank you, Grillby,] Frisk signed. Grillby nodded, the flames on his head flickering a little mirthfully. He turned his head then, staring at Sans. The skeleton shrugged, his grin a little less hard. Grillby’s head tilted down towards their joined hands, then back at Sans. He turned and walked away as Frisk fought their own growing grin at the casual and practiced way Grillby handled the skeleton’s antics.

“too bad i can’t do that,” Sans sighed. Frisk looked at him quizzically.

Sans looked away. “unstick us, that is. woops.” He popped the tip of the ketchup bottle into his mouth and took a swig.

The rest of the bar faded into darkness as Frisk’s eyes shot wide and focused on the skeleton whose hand they clasped. Everything went very, very still. Frisk’s core blazed, and their jaw went tense. Sans continued to drink the ketchup. A tendril of power shot out of Frisk’s core and into the hand that was bonded to Sans. The fur of their ears and tail stood on end as anger tightened every muscle. Sans tilted his skull and looked at Frisk. For the longest of moments, his white pupils met Frisk’s dark ones. Neither broke it, and Frisk’s hand nearly shook with the energy thrumming in their veins.

The room lightened, and in a flash of returning senses, Frisk pulled their core under control and fought their urge to punch Sans straight in his skeletal face.

Still staring, Sans relaxed his hand further and pulled it away from Frisk’s. “joking,” he said simply. Frisk’s mouth dropped open as they quickly pulled their hand back and flexed it experimentally. There was no residue. 

“not much of a funnybone, huh, Ky?” he continued. His grin was still spread wide, but he now stared at the red bottle in his hand. He turned it over and squeezed it above his fries, drawing out the inevitable spluttering of the bottle. Frisk got the very sudden and certain feeling that this monster owned several whoopee cushions.

Shaking their head, Frisk turned to their own basket. The fries were perfectly crispy and golden. Only a few seconds of hesitation passed before Frisk chose one and popped it in their mouth. It all but melted on it, and Frisk perked up as they relished the taste and burst of energy. Monster food was simply on another level. They worked their way through the basket, tail rolling happily.

Frisk felt Sans’ gaze burning their face, but they pretended to focus on the fries while slyly tuning their new ears to other conversations around the room.

“Yeah right! No way the library would think about fixing the sign-”

Next.

“I mean, that smell was a weird smell, but then it was a puppy smell, so-”

Next.

“M-maybe, m- (hic) I should jus’... onnne m-more, yeah-?”

Yikes. Next.

“-the group was at the stream, looking for something.”

There.

The monster at the end of the bar spoke low, underneath the happy slurs of her neighbors. She spoke towards her glass as an oddly disinterested Grillby stocked his side of the counter across from her.

“-of it,” Frisk managed to catch. “It’s not great. And, they’ve - they’ve been moving. More houses in the cap’ overtaken. More missing. It’ll be soon.”

“y’know, eavesdropping isn’t for the coolest of cats.”

Frisk froze, a fry halfway to their mouth. They looked at Sans. His damned grin was still there, but his bone eyelids had lowered somehow - and Frisk felt the slow slide of goosebumps up their arms. They moved the french fry to their mouth and finished it, meeting Sans’ gaze as casually as possible. 

[Just listening to the local nightlife,] Frisk signed.

“huh. fancy yourself a bit frisky?”

Sans’ eyes didn’t move. Frisk didn’t break their eye contact, but had to fight the urge to shift their ears and tail.

[Just a passerby who likes the town,] Frisk replied.

“bit far from most places, Snowin,” Sans commented. He slowly spun the ketchup bottle between his hands. It was noticeably lighter in color and weight.

Frisk shrugged. They were used to nosy questions on the surface when they had passed through towns and libraries searching for answers. [The road less traveled shows a bit more than you would find otherwise.]

Sans leaned forward a fraction. “all about shortcuts, are we?”

A snort forced itself out of Frisk. Their hand drifted to hover over the pocket with the crumpled map. [Nothing short about it,] Frisk signed wryly.

Sans hadn’t missed the movement of their hand. He lifted a brow ridge. “careful, kid-en. those’re some sarcastic words.”

Frisk grinned, shooting Sans an equally sassy look. [Yeah, you’d know.]

“a guy in my line of work has gotta be able to pick out tone,” he shrugged.

Intel indeed. [What line would that be?]

His dark eyes caught their’s. “oh, y’know. one along a path less traveled, or somethin’,” he said. The grin was back full-force.

The bastard.

“well, i better get back to that path,” he continued. He swung off his stool, and Frisk realized just how stocky the skeleton was. Despite the lack of visible flesh, Sans filled out his lab coat like a chubby lumberjack. Frisk fought a laugh at the mental image as Sans’ looked at them briefly, a flash of curious confusion passing over his face. He turned towards the door. “add it to my tab, Grillby,” he called with a wave. “Later, Ky-tten,” he chuckled.

Frisk slipped off their stool. Sans was hiding something, they knew it - everything about him was joking and laid back, but somewhere in a wary part of their soul Frisk knew it was to divert any second looks.

Unable to call out to him, Frisk stuck out their hand to catch Sans’ elbow and talk to him one last time. Their hand overshot slightly, and they gripped the crook of his arm as he took a step.

Everything ripped apart. Frisk fell into nothing, feeling the void tear at their shrinking, shattering, shaking soul as light exploded into darkness and back again while reality tore-

-and they crashed into Sans’ back as his foot hit the ground.

Frisk reeled backwards, their shaking free hand clutching their chest as they tried to remember how time worked. Reality settled heavy once more on their shoulders. Sans spun around, tearing his arm out of Frisk’s grip.

Their gazes locked. Sans’ left eye faded from electric blue to white. Frisk’s eyes opened wide as the cool, conditioned air finally caught their attention, and as their eyes not only adjusted to the bright lighting but also to the way Sans’ steps had echoed dully around the dingy tile-lined lab room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops.
> 
> Well, we've got a few new friends available to talk to, so please head on over to askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com and submit some questions! You can follow it as well for answers and updates.
> 
> Things have been a little hectic with the new year, but I think I'm settling on an "update at least once a week" schedule. I'm starting a new fancy 8-5 kind of job next week, so I'll be ironing out the kinks in my schedule. Until then I'm not quite sure which day it'll be, but either towards the beginning of the week or the end. Might even have a double update coming soon - there's a lot about to happen...
> 
> Thank you so much for your kind words and wonderful reactions! I love hearing from you all - it makes me DETERMINED <3


	7. Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _[What are you doing to me?] They signed, looking up at him. Sans took a step back. Frisk eyes fluttered shut and they collapsed on the ground._
> 
> _He stared at them. The blue glow of his eye cast little light on their limp form. In the distance, he heard hammering._
> 
> \-------------  
> A/N: If you caught my update of posting a chapter 7 (now chapter 8) last night, please go back and read this chapter! It clarifies quite a lot :) If not, then go ahead and read this and onward, no worries.

The empty bar shook with the impact of Undyne's fist on the bar.

"I don't care if you were busy, I know you saw them, Sparky!"

Propped on top of a barstool at Undyne's side, Alphys made fluttering motions with her hands. She was trying to avoid the path of Undyne's wild gestures, but knew she had to calm her somehow. Both women were wrapped up in long, dark coats, and Alphys struggled to keep her obscuring hat on as she ducked out of the way of another slam. Undyne had thrown her hat across the room as soon as they had entered.

"U-Undyne, the ears were designed to-"

"I don't _give a damn,_ " Undyne growled. She stared down Grillby, who stood with arms crossed on the other side of the bar. Alphys sighed, knowing that technology and the laws of… well, anything were well outside of Undyne's concerns at the moment. "We told him about the ears, so he knows. Since he knows, he should be able to remember," she continued. She leaned forward, both palms on the bar counter. "So it's about time he gets to remembering. Or else-"

Grillby shifted his arms and made a few quick flickering signs in the air towards Undyne. Alphys translated for him - "or else what?"

She winced and peered at Undyne. The wild look on her face was reply enough.

The barkeep shook his head. [As your companion has explained, Undyne, knowing only works moving forward. Retroactively, I can know that I saw them, but not when or any other details.] He said, letting Alphys finish translating before continuing. [And I meant what I signed - or else what? I allow my bar to be a place where whispers can be whispered, where conversations less than legal can be held without repercussion. You need me and my bar alike. All I ask is that it is all kept as private as possible - for the sake of you and the other rebellious people hiding out in the Underground, and for the sake of the citizens of our little town.]

Undyne scowled as Alphys finished translating. Her posture relaxed, or at least returned from being quite so aggressively forward-leaning. She chewed at her lip, and her visible eye looked into the distance as she thought.

Able to relax for a moment, Alphys turned to address Grillby. "Okay, so you c-can't recall our friend, naturally. What about any… s-suspicious activity? T-their only job was to come here, gather information, t-then return. You know now that you s-saw someone with cat ears at some point, so they made it. S-something must have happened after they headed back, or wh-while they were here…"

"So you might've noticed something else suspicious that could tip us off!" Undyne finished, once again slamming a hand on the counter. She was grinning now, and Alphys was relieved to see some of the anger fade from her face. Hopefully Grillby wouldn't charge them for the damages Undyne was inflicting on his bar counter. "C'mon Sparky, it's been just a couple days. Surely there's… there's _something?_ "

[Honestly, it's been much of the same,] he replied. The flames of his face twisted a little wistfully. [The fights have only been small and drunken, as usual. The patrol has come by as usual, attempting half-heartedly to accost me, as usual-]

Undyne laughed. "I'm sure _that_ was successful."

Grillby's flames shifted in a small laugh. [They know well what to expect.] He paused. [And the only regular to not be in as usual is Sans.]

Undyne stilled. Alphys stared at Grillby, mind racing. Finally, Undyne leaned forward, this time slowly. "Sparky. When was the last you saw Sans?"

He thought for a moment. Then, slowly, [Approximately two to three days, I believe.]

Undyne swore vehemently, matched by Alphys. Grillby's face shifted, eyebrows lifting in surprise for a moment as he looked at Alphys. Then, [You have your clue, then.]

Undyne was already out the door, the moulding of the frame cracked with her force. Alphys snatched up the hat that she had abandoned across the room, then turned to follow her with a wave to Grillby. "Thank you, Grillby - thank you." She paused at the doorway. "And put the damage on our tab," she sighed, before hurrying after Undyne. The door slowly swung shut behind her. It got stuck on the doorframe.

Grillby stared towards the door, a flickering frown on his face.

*********************************************************************

The hem of Sans' labcoat fluttered lazily as the magic poured out of the enormous machine in front of him. His fingers clacked against a digital screen as he made quick notes and watched an accompanying screen of complicated readings and moving lines, his eyes shielded from the magic's light by tinted goggles. He would not look up, even as the light shifted against the writhing form within the machine.

At last the light died down. The figure within the machine went limp. His hand hovered over the screen, and his eye sockets were dark. Finally, he made a swiping motion to one side, and the screens went dark as well.

His steps were unhurried, but not slow. He walked over the edge of the tiles, soles of his slippers glowing blue as he stepped over what appeared to be an abyss of a pit below the twisted skull-like machine. In what would have been a slit for a nose hung the limp figure. Sans lifted his head and stared at the machine, the white pricks of light returning to his eye sockets.

He raised his hands then, a blue glow enveloping them. The figure in front of him glowed as well, and with a small gesture floated towards him.

He turned then, the figure now hanging limply just inches above his arms as if he were almost physically carrying them. He walked out of the room, the blue fading from his slippers as he stepped once more on tile.

He didn't look down at the figure he carried by magic as he walked through a series of dingy corridors. Finally, stopping near the entrance of a small room, he set them down. They rested, sitting and propped against the wall, as the blue glow faded from his hands. As if sheathing something dangerous, he returned his hands to the pockets of his labcoat.

Frisk could be sleeping, with how peaceful their expression was. Sans shifted backwards, and sat against the wall opposite them.

Now, to wait.

*********************************************************************

"Undyne, w-we have to be careful-"

Undyne's boot met the closed door of the lab and promptly busted it down.

"That little shit has been pulling this crap for long enough," Undyne replied, her sharp teeth flashing in the white light of the lab. She stepped onto and past the lab door unceremoniously. Alphys followed her, stepping forlornly over the door. It had taken her ages to get that door to work well again the last time Undyne had busted it down. Well, it wasn't hers to deal with anymore anyways…

She shook herself out of it as she hurried after Undyne.

"Listen, wait, t-the elevator will-" she quickly stammered, but Undyne had already risen an open hand. A bolt of a spear appeared, flashing electric blue as Undyne gripped it. Unceremoniously and aggressively, she thrust it into the elevator door.

The entire lab went dark.

Alphys groaned. "The elevator will short-circuit the whole system if you try to break into it," she finished.

*********************************************************************

Sans saw Frisk stumble mid-sprint when the lights went out. His blue eye didn't need the light much, and his brow ridge raised as he stepped to the side to avoid Frisk's wild punch towards him. He was a bit of an easy target, now that the lights were out. Frisk kicked at him, lashing out with gathered magic, and he teleported behind them.

Well, not _that_ easy.

"what's the matter, kid? you wanna _glow?_ " He said at their shoulder. They spun around, and Sans met their wild, desperate eyes. Suddenly they doubled over, coughing, coughing, something splattering onto the floor. They wiped weakly at their mouth.

[What are you doing to me?] They signed, looking up at him. Sans took a step back. Frisk eyes fluttered shut and they collapsed on the ground.

He stared at them. The blue glow of his eye cast little light on their limp form. In the distance, he heard hammering.

With a small gesture, he covered Frisk in blue and lifted them up above his arms once again. He walked around a nearby corner, down another hall, and into a room filled with neatly made beds. As he approached, one of them untucked itself. He lowered Frisk into it, and took a step back. The glow faded from Frisk and himself. After a few moments, the blankets shifted, tucking Frisk in. With a sigh, he grabbed a digital screen from a nearby wall and moved to the next bed over. He tucked one leg under himself and sat down, beginning to take notes as the hammering continued.

*********************************************************************

"Alphys, you _have_ to know a way in."

Spears littered the room, most of them lodged in the floor and walls of the lab. Several desks were shattered, and miscellaneous papers were shredded and strewn all over. Undyne was sitting against a wall, breathing hard, one arm propped up on a bent leg. Alphys was in the center of a concentration of papers, piecing together some and reading others.

"T-the lab… the true lab was not meant to be broken into," Alphys said. "Much less out of."

"Alphys, it's been another three days. Who knows _what_ he's doing to Frisk? We have to-"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Alphys shouted, slamming her hands onto the ground. Undyne was quiet, staring at her. Alphys panted. She curled one of her hands into a fist and looked away. "Sans is much smarter than me, Undyne. I'm sure he's added further protections, s-since then."

The room was quiet, save for a distant hum of machines deep below them.

"I'm sorry, Alphys."

Alphys couldn't look at her. "No, it's okay. I s-shouldn't have lost it like that, I'm sorry too."

Undyne pushed herself into a standing position then, and strode towards her partner. She reached down, offering her a hand. "You're smart, too. Not any less smart than that short bonehead, that's for sure. So let's do this."

Alphys wiped a hand at her face, rubbing her eyes. She took Undyne's hand with a slight flush to her face. The warrior pulled her up and kept pulling, swinging a yelping Alphys into a bridal carry. She grinned down at Alphys, her cheeks tinted a deeper blue. "So we gotta do a bit of recon before we can get in, yeah? No problem. Frisk is determined - they're still surviving, I'm sure. We're gonna help them best by getting our own shit together."

Alphys stared at her, then nodded. Ignoring the fiery blush that was lighting her face, she said, "We're gonna need some specialized help while I try to figure out some options."

"I've got just the thing," Undyne said. Clutching Alphys closer, she took off at a sprint out of the lab.

*********************************************************************

Sans turned his back just as Frisk came to behind him.

He heard them take a step back. With the glow from holding them upright fading from his eye, he turned around.

"you shouldn't be here," he said, his voice rumbling low. He saw it shock them, saw their eyes go wide and those cat ears twitch, saw the tensing of their muscles as they turned to run. Ten days of this, and nearly every time they had run. Only the first few times, and a scattered one or two after that, had they tried to talk first. He wondered if they remembered - but no, their actions later, the few questions they would try to ask, they really didn't know.

Their tail whipped out of sight of the doorway as they pounded down the hallway. Sans pulled out a small rolled object from his pocket and stuck it between his teeth. An imperceptible flash of his eye and the end of it smoldered lightly, and he breathed deeply.

He listened as Frisk ran down the hallways, clearly too urgent to quiet their steps. He let the smoke slip out of his mouth, curling serenely in the air. Some of the times Frisk had gotten too frenzied, had overreached, and had come dangerously close to dying. He had to knock them out, then, cut the run short - he had to retain the timeline. Part of him wished that the runs where Frisk had stayed determined to talk to him were the norm. The kid was smart, too smart, and had sarcastic streak to match Sans own satirical penchant, and their bantering had last half a day before Frisk had tried to escape. He liked Frisk. Too much. He couldn't let that get in the way of the experiment.

The bantering hadn't happened in days, though. He had made notes about it, of course. Something in them seemed to tip them off, seemed to let them know that something was deeply wrong. Sans tweaked the machine to try to match, but the variables still weren't quite cooperating.

Sans kept smoking, calmly, as he caught up to Frisk. He kept his magic use low this time, testing their use of magic when they thought they had more of an equal footing. Less than an hour later, Frisk had passed out. Sans carried them through the corridors, smoke trailing behind him in small puffs and wispy curls like dancing ghosts.

With practiced motions, he connected them to the enormous machine and moved to the screens he had placed in front of it. The bones of his fingers swept in practiced motions across the screens, pulling up charts and data and his notes. He marked down a few things, noted their dwindling reserves, then lifted his hand to his mouth and took two fingers to gently hold the rolled paper in his hands as he inhaled slowly. His eyes closed, and he let the smoke pool in his ribcage, swirling and shifting. Taking his fingers and the roll away, he slowly exhaled. The smoke poured out in a silky stream, hanging and puffing out serenely before dissipating in spiraling wisps.

With his index and middle fingers extended to lightly hold the smoldering joint, he tapped "reset" on the screen and watched the machine flare with magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned above, for anyone who caught my posting of chapter 7 last night, I'm sorry for some of the confusion that probably happened in the chapter... after some deliberation, I decided to add this one here (as a chapter 6.5) to clarify things and hopefully add some good insight into our lovely characters. I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> As always, too, any words are so appreciated! You can head over to _askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com_ too, and send in an ask to any one of the characters who have shown up so far!


	8. Reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Time crawled as Frisk lifted a shaking hand to the edge of the curtain. They should have stepped away. They should lower their hand. They should turn. They should run back. They should leave the room and face the winding corridors and the grinning skeleton who had gone from amicably creepy to downright intrinsically dangerous instead, they knew._
> 
> _Their fingers clutched the edge of the curtain._

The quiet hum of distant machinery filled Frisk’s ears as their heart froze. Sans’ eyes had gone completely dark, not even a flicker of white left. He was still so close. Frisk could touch him with an arm outstretched if they took just a step forward.

“you shouldn’t be here.” Sans’ voice shocked Frisk, and they took a step backward. Sans’ eyes lit again, and he stared at Frisk.

Frisk’s skin crawled. A moment passed. They spun a perfect 180 and took off at a spring out the near door and down the dingy hall, tail whipping out behind them. 

The buzzing lights flickered unevenly, and Frisk’s head pounded in sync with their feet and heart. They took a sharp turn at an intersection of halls, not sure why but determined to escape. Another ethereal fallen star laid near the cross, but their mind barely even caught it.

Coming up on another set of crossing halls, Frisk dug their foot into the tile to take a sharp turn at speed. Their momentum caught up with them all at once as they crashed into a mirror. It all but rang with the impact, light catching and shooting as they fell backward and smashed onto the discolored floor. Silent swears poured from Frisk as they cradled their head, their fake ears twitching forward and curling in with the rest of Frisk’s body. Blinking fiercely, Frisk looked up and realized there had been no hall to their right - only an odd reflection of a hallway branching opposite.

“that had to hurt. ‘ear, lemme help you up.”

Frisk felt a hard hand flick at one of their cat ears and looked into the mirror.

Sans stood directly behind them with the same nonchalant grin he had worn at the bar. Frisk jabbed their elbow back and scrambled to their feet. Their elbow had only met air - Sans had moved just a fraction to the side, but Frisk barely took note before they shot off down the new hall without a second glance. Sweat dripped down Frisk’s temple as they tried to find their core, the pulsing light deep within that would help them reach the strange magic laying all around. It felt just out of reach.

“humans aren’t too fast, are they?” Sans commented from their side. Frisk kept sprinting, glancing to the side - but no one was there.

They dodged through a room full of beds, mostly tucked and clean, far cleaner than their surroundings. The air was almost foggy, though Frisk wasn’t sure if it was from the chill. A few of the beds were unmade, the blankets laid invitingly open.

No way.

Determinedly ignoring the bizarre trap, Frisk kept moving and tried to focus on their upcoming path option. Their were two, and Sans leaned against the open entrance of one of the off-shooting corridors. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his labcoat. Frisk veered to the other hall with a grimace. Their core was still too hard to concentrate on…

They sprinted onwards, dragging in labored breaths. More halls and rooms were coming up quick.

Choosing one at random, they dodged into a room, slammed into the closest dark corner, and frantically tried to find the clarity of mind to look internally. Breathing hard, they leaned further into the shadows to hide, even just for a moment. Another steadying breath, and they could finally look in - eyes now a little unfocused, they dove inward... and they found a just a tiny, dim spark.

As if they had been punched in the gut, the air left Frisk’s lungs in a mute whoosh. Their head spun, and they almost snapped out of their introspection. They blinked, over and over, as if their physical sight was the thing getting in the way of seeing that familiar bright flame of magical energy. In response, their head throbbed a little harder, and the dim spark stayed dull.

Shaking themself out of it, Frisk clutched one hand to their chest and sucked in a heavy breath. Their skin had cooled in the chilly air, and their sweat began to feel clammy. 

Across the room - which Frisk realized was more like a short, wide hall, with only a tub at the end - something moved behind behind the shower curtain. Every nerve froze, every muscle pulled them to stand and move towards it... every thought screaming to turn back. Gut dropping, they let their feet move them forward. 

Their head turned away, as much as possible, keeping a single eye on the shadow. Slowly, slowly, it sped up, each step agitating it further. As Frisk finally came only a step away from the curtain, it was waving so wildly that it was a blur.

Time crawled as Frisk lifted a shaking hand to the edge of the curtain. They should have stepped away. They should lower their hand. They should turn. They should run back. They should leave the room and face the winding corridors and the grinning skeleton who had gone from amicably creepy to downright intrinsically dangerous instead, they knew.

Their fingers clutched the edge of the curtain.

They pulled it to the side.

“hey.”

Frisk’s hand curled into a fist and shot towards Sans’ grinning skull. He tilted his head, not a hair’s width from Frisk’s hand. He lifted his opposite hand, two fingers extended and wrapped in a blue glow. His left eye matched. Frisk pulled away, and was frozen in a single moment.

“you shouldn’t greet an old pal like that,” he said. Frisk strained to pull away, but a warm blue glow had settled on their skin, and suddenly their muscles would respond. “and just saying, punching someone tryin’ to help you never _fist_ anything.”

Frisk rolled their eyes and tried to look inward again - the little spark was just as faint but they reached for it, and a pained grimace flashed across their face. For a moment, Frisk felt the binding blue glow flicker as Sans’ brow ridges pulled downward - _in what? anger? concern?_ \- and they curled inward at the moment of broken concentration, flexing and folding as hard as they could. The blue glow snapped as Sans pulled away, and Frisk snatched at the curtains and dragged at them as they fell. The rod snapped off the wall and clattered, curtains and all, towards Sans.

Knees hitting the ground, Frisk gripped at the spark in their core. Pain lanced through their body as they grabbed at the now flickering piece of themself, but they clutched it anyways and desperately tore at its faltering power-

The room lit up blue as Frisk was thrown into the air. They tumbled over and over in the open air as they felt their very soul being held by Sans’ outreached hand, his magic clutching them as his lab coat billowed out at the sheer force of the magic pouring from him. His left eye seemed aflame, Frisk noted dimly. The room was turning blurry, and Frisk coughed. They felt a warm trickle of liquid at the corner of their mouth.  
Sans’ twitched his palm towards him and strode forward. Frisk’s forehead was tickled as their hair shifted, falling away from their face as they were pulled limply towards Sans. Heart skipping a beat as they rolled their head to the side and saw the the shifting blue shadows on his face catching on his sharp frown. He reached out his hand as Frisk quickly floated close.

With a sharp cough, Frisk let go of what little power they had gathered. The room distorted as Sans’ voice reached Frisk’s ears.

“idiot-” 

Everything went black, and Frisk’s soul shattered.

And with a sharp thud, their feet hit the ground right at a corner of intersecting hallways. Frisk fell as their legs gave out.

Eyes trying to focus, a blurry star slowly shifted into detail in front of Frisk. The chill of the tile seeped through their sweater, and Frisk vaguely registered that the spark in their chest had gone dark. Emptiness quieted their chest, and Frisk fought the urge to throw up. Something urged them to get to their feet, to move, but weariness had seeped into their bones. It just wasn’t worth it.

How long had they been running? Did it even matter anymore? They were too tired. Too tired. Those fries at Grillby’s bar felt like a lifetime ago. Undyne would be so pissed that they were running late for the rendezvous…

“you’re gonna want this.” 

Frisk’s ears registered the crinkle of the bag before their eyes understood the sudden appearance of the bag of popato chisps held in front of them. With difficulty, they wet their lips, but they couldn’t find the strength to grab it.

Frisk felt someone shift behind them, and then the cold faded from their skin. It was replaced with a radiating warmth, and they felt gravity briefly loosen its hold as they were lifted and placed roughly upright against the wall. The warmth and duly noticed accompanying glow faded. Frisk shivered. Their head had rolled limply forward, but with every bit of strength they lifted it, knocking the back of their head gently against the steadying wall. Sans stood in front of them, one hand in his lab coat pocket, the other in front of him, still offering the popato chisps.

Able to do little else, Frisk just looked at him.

Sans’ eyes were dark. He didn’t move.

Frisk’s eyes moved to the bag. Then, back up to Sans.

They blinked.

Vaguely, they willed their hand to move. Nothing happened.

A few moments passed. 

With a deep breath - _where did it go?_ Frisk wondered - Sans stepped forward and shifted to a crouching position. For the first time, Frisk noticed that he was wearing fluffy pink slippers, expertly cared for and a little worn at the edges where someone’s handiwork had been tired by the passage of time. If they had the energy, they would have been torn between a laugh and the strange impulse to cry.

With a series of crinkles and echoing pops, Sans’ opened the bag of chisps in a quick motion. He reached in, and two bony digits pulled out a particularly large chisp. He extended his arm again, placing the chisp just in front of Frisk’s lips. The white pupils had returned to his eyesockets, and he looked at Frisk. Frisk looked back, not noticing the almost negligible furrow of their own brow. 

They both held the position.

Finally, Frisk let their mouth fall slightly open. With the slightest tilt of their head, and the greatest effort, Frisk bit gently on the chisp. Sans let go as Frisk’s head fell back to the wall, and they pulled the chisp into their mouth and chewed. Frisk swallowed, their face twisting in effort. With a gentle pulse, a tiny piece of their weariness was pushed back.

Sans pulled out another chisp and offered it. With a little more steadiness, Frisk lifted their head and took it. They swallowed, and opened their mouth again as Sans proffered another chisp. The minutes passed as Frisk ate, Sans offering more chisps as Frisk managed to sit up straighter, lift their head - eat without quite so much effort. At last, Sans offered the bag, which Frisk reached for. Warm skin brushed cool bone for a split second before Frisk lifted the bag and tipped their head back, shaking the small pieces and crumbs into their mouth with little ceremony. They lowered their hand and their head once they had finished, quickly licking their lips for the last of the caught crumbs.

Frisk turned their head and looked down the hall. Their hands absently folded the bag, smoothing out the creases. Sans rested his elbows on his knees.

The bag was placed on the ground. 

[Why help?]

“you died.”

[I know.]

“you shouldn’t overreach the last of your core like that.”

[It’s rude to grab someone’s soul.]

“it’s rude to punch people.”

[I feel like I’m awfully used to dying.]

Frisk’s hands were as matter-of-fact as Sans’ tone. Sans looked away now, watching the empty corridor as Frisk did.

“you’re very determined to live.”

[I think most people are.]

“you’d be surprised.”

Frisk met Sans' gaze.

They still felt so tired.

[So what now?]

Sans shrugged.

[That’s all you got?]

“waiting on you, kid.”

Frisk grimaced. [Keep waiting then. I’m not moving anytime soon.]

“don’t you want to escape?”

[Do you want to keep me here?] 

Sans’ eyes narrowed, then he shrugged. “it’s a little tiring, tibia the seeker every time you hide.”

Frisk shrugged back. [Well, you found me.] They paused. [Again.]

“again,” Sans nodded, his grin returning at last.

Frisk stared at him. He plopped backwards, drifting back a little and resting his own back on the wall adjacent. He kept his arms propped on his bent knees. He casually returned the stare.

Warmth had returned to the pulse of Frisk’s heart, but they knew that the spark in their core was as dim as it could be. They hadn’t lied - they didn’t intend to move anytime soon.

[How many times?] They signed.

Sans shrugged. “a few.”

[Why don’t I remember?]

Sans stayed silent.

[But it went wrong, last time.]

“like i said. you shouldn’t run out your core, kid.”

[How long has it been?]

Sans looked back down the hallway. “i’m not too good with keeping track of time anymore.”

Frisk huffed. [You’re not a very good conversationalist,] they griped.

Sans’ mouth closed, somehow, for a brief moment. Frisk would have sworn he swallowed a laugh. “and you’ve got a crap sense of self-preservation, _kid-en._ ”

Frisk cracked a grin as they rolled their eyes. [You’ve used that one before, _bonehead._ ]

Sans laughed for real this time - a single rumble of a laugh, tilting his head down and shaking his shoulders so slightly. “it’s been ages since i did, so it’s still _humerus._ ”

[Sans, how long has it been?]

The warmth of his grin went dull. Sans looked at Frisk, the corners of his mouth still upward, but the harsh light of the hall cast such deep shadows below his eyes. Frisk’s hands remained in the air, mimicking their last sign, echoing it.

“that’s the downside to tech that makes people not notice you. no one remembers, and weeks can pass without any good clues.”

No surprise hit Frisk, but their gut still dropped.

[Weeks.]

Sans was silent.

[Did you hurt anyone to keep me here?]

Sans shook his head once. He didn’t look away.

[So they didn’t look for me.]

Now he looked away.

Frisk’s eyes widened. [They found me?]

Sans didn’t answer. In the distance, machines hummed. The lights above buzzed, but it didn’t feel like electricity.

[Any chance you’ll let me go?]

Sans’ chest rose and fell one time. “no.”

[And you won’t tell me why?]

No reply.

[Can’t, then.]

Sans looked back at Frisk. He watched as they slowly pushed themselves to their feet, movements steady. He watched as they brushed off their back, their arms, as they reached down and tucked the popato chisp bag into a pocket. His eyes went dark as they stretched, rolling their neck and popping a few tense joints. Frisk looked down at him, waiting until he looked back up.

Sans met their gaze. He could almost see the pulse of their soul, the flare of determination that lit them up like a star.

Strangely fluid, he stood as well. He stuffed one hand in a pocket and frowned.

“you’ve got too much determination for your own good, Frisk.”

Frisk grinned at him. [It’s gotten me this far.] Reaching to their head, they slipped off the cat ears and unclipped the tail behind them. Looping them together, they gingerly stuffed the loaned gear into their pocket, noting how worn they looked. 

Sans smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head one last time. “can’t argue with that.”

He flashed out of their vision, and Frisk looked down the hall. [Thanks for the chisps, Sans.]

“don’t mention it,” he replied from beside them, the blue glow alight in his eye. Frisk took a moment to reach into their core, careful to only pull at a small portion of the now-bright spark.

However long it was taking, they were learning. Sans’ grin lit up, and he took a step to the side as Frisk’s arm shot past his head, his eye catching the nearly imperceptible glow it was emitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... much delayed, but here it is.
> 
> I won't make excuses about how long it took to get this chapter up - life happened, a whole lot of life, and in all honesty it was a challenge writing this scene and I probably did it a dozen times before sticking with what I at least thought was best. Anyways, moving forward - I'm really excited to be back at this story. It feels right. I hope you enjoyed it, if you've been waiting - and if you're new, I'm stoked to have you with us!
> 
> I really love hearing back from you, dear readers - going back through all the wonderful support and great reactions you've left so far is what really helped me have the courage to pick this up again despite anxiety hanging at my back. Any reviews left are so appreciated, and I'd also love to hear from you over at _askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com_ , where you can ask any character who has shown up so far any questions about the story/their lives you may have :)
> 
> EDIT (3/27/16): Added a chapter before this (now chap. 7) to clarify some of the time shenanigans/background happenings...


	9. Too Much Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A ghost of a shiver brushed across Frisk’s shoulders and without a second thought they lunged forward, reaching for Sans. He stepped to the side as they came close, eyes meeting theirs for a lingering moment as everything seemed to slow down. His grin was almost... apologetic. Their ears registered a shout behind them but they didn’t think about it. Frisk dragged their hand over, trying to grab him before he could disappear. He reached towards them, and Frisk’s eyes widened._
> 
> _Sans’ hand splayed across their chest, over their heart._

Less than two minutes had passed and Frisk was bent over, clutching their chest and gasping for breath. They scowled at the ground, straining to get enough air. Their eyes screwed as they tried to focus, knowing full well that the issue was less to do with their lungs and more to do with the nearly non-existent spark sputtering in their core.

There was a shift of space a few feet behind them. Frisk had started to recognize the odd feeling of space restructuring itself to place Sans in it. It tickled their shoulders, weirdly enough.

Frisk ignored Sans as they tried to let their core catch up with the rest of them. Dying didn’t seem to help their reserves of energy, Frisk considered with a wry grin.

“what’s so funny, kid?”

Frisk tilted their head to the side, their hair falling away and allowing them a clear field of vision to stare back at Sans. He had bent a little to one side, hands in his lab coat, head cocked with his usual grin. Interestingly, there was an odd pull to the brow bones above his eye sockets.

[Worried about me, Sans?] Frisk signed. With a flash of their eye, they tucked their hand into a fist and shot out a punch towards Sans. He dodged as little as he could, grinning. 

“well, y’know, the science must go on and all,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug. He straightened up - or as much as he usually did. His comfortable slouch remained as he stepped out of the way of Frisk’s left hook. “i’ve got data to process anyways, so i could always _knock_ you out for a bit,” he added, rapping the knuckles of one hand lightly on the head of his skull with a wink.

Frisk grinned and rolled their eyes, stepping back for a moment. [You’re not very good at playing the bad guy, are you?]

“all that evil laughter seems like a lot of work, honestly.” He shot a hand out towards Frisk. They dodged - just enough. 

[Yeah, but it opens up a lot of possibility for a whole new realm of evil puns.] They slipped to the side, stepping out of the way of the next slash of Sans’ lightly glowing hand.

Sans considered this for a moment as Frisk rolled their shoulders. “i am pretty _bad to the bone_ ,” he said slowly, skipping a step to the side as Frisk moved to punch him again. Their breathing was labored, and there wasn’t much energy behind the move. Still, they flashed another smile at the skeleton as they relaxed their pose to breathe.

[Solid. 7 out of 10?]

“i’m always _villain_ to work on some more material,” he replied with a wink.

Frisk bit back a laugh. [Now you’re talking!]

Sans bowed at the waist, his grin stretching. Frisk gave him a thumbs up, then looked down the corridor and tried to slow their heartbeat, dropping one hand while the other slipped to rest over their chest. They felt like every muscle in their body was twice as heavy, and every pump of their heart was a fight against a deep sleep. Sans didn’t move to keep the fight going, and they stood there together. Despite their fatigue, Frisk felt oddly at ease.

It was almost peaceful.

[You’re not the bad guy, Sans.]

Sans regarded Frisk with a heavy look. “that’s a nice thought, but some things just aren’t true.”

Frisk looked at him sardonically. Sans looked away. A few moments passed, and Frisk opened up their stance, spreading their arms wide despite the exhaustion weighing them down.

[Alright, then. I’m done. Have at me.] 

Sans’ head whipped back towards them, brow bones furrowed and a frown on his face. Unwavering, Frisk met his gaze. In the distance, there was some sort of low hammering noise.

Finally, Sans sighed, and what little blue glow was left faded out. 

“what happened to all that determination, huh?” He slipped his hands into his labcoat and shifted to lean on one leg, looking at Frisk as they lowered their arms.

They smiled brightly, ignoring the heaviness of their limbs. [I’m still going to give you a run for your money to get outta here,] they clarified. Pausing for a moment, they stared at the palms of their hands. Seconds passed. [I just wish I knew why I couldn’t shake this exhaustion,] they admitted at last. [I feel like… like coming back to that- that save point, after I die... Shouldn’t I at least match that level of energy?]

Sans eye sockets were dark. Frisk looked at their hands again, nose scrunching slightly as they frowned.

“each time you come back to a save point, what do you feel?”

Frisk looked at him in surprise. He waited.

Slowly, [Confused. Overwhelmed. Like I’d just been hit by a train.] A train powered by humanity’s experimentation in their magic, but a train nonetheless. [I feel kind of… darker, inside, I guess.]

Sans stared at them - or rather, at their hand resting on their chest. Frisk felt a tug below their hand, and looked down in alarm. Their heart resumed beating normally after a moment, and when they looked up Sans was looking away.

Getting tired after whatever experiments Sans had been running made sense to Frisk. They probably weren’t getting any true rest, or at least not enough before they were fighting him again. It was different with coming back to where they had last... 

Frisk’s breath hitched in their chest, realization hitting them like an avalanche.

[... Sans.]

He wasn’t looking, but he saw the gesture of their hand. He glanced back towards them, brow bone raised.

[How do you know that I’ve saved more than once?]

His eyesockets went dark again. Neither moved. Frisk narrowed their eyes.

[You said “each time.” But… No one else remembers. I fought Undyne several times before passing out, which was the only thing that kept her from killing me again. They don’t even seem to realize that time looped.] Frisk shifted slightly, stepping a fraction closer to Sans. [Sans, how do you know that I can Save?] They felt the beginnings of a tingling against their shoulders. [And don’t try and teleport, or whatever! I’m not going to forget this part. Even if you try, I already came back to a Save - I’ll just figure it out again.] The edge to their motions matched the tight feeling in their chest. Then, more softly, [... I’m determined, remember?]

The white pupils returned to his eyes. His grin had pulled downward, close to an outright frown. He stared at them, and Frisk stared back, fully aware of the determination written across their features. At last Sans sighed, leaned against the wall behind him, and slid into a lounging sitting position on the floor. He gestured across from him. Frisk took the cue and sat cross legged against the opposite wall. After rummaging briefly in a few pockets, he pulled out a joint, and raised a brow bone again with a slight extension of his arm. Frisk looked between it and him.

[... weed? Really? You can grow it down here?]

Sans huffed a laugh. “eh, it’s something similar, anyways. grows at the edge of Waterfall and Hotland - anxiety medicine, really. helps keep me from getting my bones rattled too much.”

Frisk nodded. Made sense, from what they knew about him already. [Fair enough. I’ll pass for now though, thanks.]

The skeleton nodded, and with a small flash of magic he lit it and took a deep drag. Frisk watched, intrigued, as no smoke appeared around his skull while he inhaled… then, as he exhaled, it flowed outward from his mouth and drifted serenely in curling wisps before fading. Partway through, Frisk saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards again, and suddenly the smoke curled and drifted out of his eyesockets as he blew out a last puff. Frisk’s eyes widened in alarm briefly before Sans chuckled and shook his head, freeing the last wisps from his skull. Frisk scowled at him and rolled their eyes.

Sans settled back with a little bit of his grin back. “what’s the matter, kid? don’t like it when i look like a dragon?”

Frisk snorted, but the corners of their mouth tugged upwards. They shook their head. [C’mon Sans, stop stalling.]

He looked away, face twisting wryly. “i guess it says something already, that i’m sitting here making conversation with you when i oughta keep figuring things out.” He looked back at Frisk. “we talked sometimes, too, y’know. you didn’t always run.”

Frisk nodded. Their head hurt if they tried to think too hard about it, but their gut never really led them wrong. And they knew Sans… even if they didn’t fully remember.

In the distance, they heard something hammering again - a little louder. Looking off towards the direction of the sound, Frisk’s brow furrowed.

Sans was looking away again. “they’re pretty close to getting in.”

[You mean…?]

Sans nodded. “yeah, they’ve been up to something _fishy_ for a while.”

[And you didn’t stop them.]

He shrugged and took a drag. As he exhaled, “i’ve got measures in place. it’s taken them this long, after all.”

Fair enough.

“anyways... yeah. i remember everything.”

The frown was back on Frisk’s face. They rolled his statement in their head for a moment, catching on quickly to his knack for saying things that meant .

[... Everything?]

Their gazes locked. “yeah.”

The breath rushed out of Frisk’s lungs. The air felt heavy with the weight of his confirmation. 

Frisk didn’t know how to respond. The years following the night the vines had taken everything played rapidly in their head - the frustration, confusion, desperation, excitement, everything, all of it, how much had occurred and brought them here- they had moved forward, even through it all, but for the monsters in the Underground time had repeated in smaller bursts… But not for Sans.

“... i’m just tired, Frisk. how many years has it been now? not that it matters. hasn’t for a long time.”

[... over 15.]

Smoke swirled in front of Sans’ face. When it cleared slightly, Frisk could see the scowl openly twisting his expression. “15 years. taken, so easily. taken from all of us.”

Frisk stayed still. Small curls of smoke slipped through the still air of the hallway, and a bead of sweat dripped down Sans’ skull. What had he seen? What did he remember, that everyone else at most only had nightmares about?

The hammering continued, closer, closer, steady, like a pulse.

“you’re determined, Frisk. is that a human thing? to be so determined, that you won’t die - or is it that you _can’t?_ ”

They stared at one another, the painful tightness in Frisk’s chest aching. They lifted their hands to sign… and the whole lab shook as an explosive sound reverberated through the halls. 

Frisk fell into a ready crouch as the lab resettled, looking around wildly before staring at Sans. He sighed.

“looks like your pals are here, kid,” he said. He pushed himself to his feet, taking one last hit from the joint before making a strange gesture that made it disappear. His eyes flickered down the hall, towards the source of the explosion, where voices were now echoing. 

[Sans, wait-] Frisk struggled to their feet and stepped towards him, arm outreached. [Just hang on, we can-]

He shook his head and looked at them. They just barely caught the sad flicker to his grin. “i can’t. i know you don’t get it yet-”

[You work for the king, don’t you?]

He froze. Frisk reached out, grabbing his shoulders - gently, but firm. After a beat they quickly signed, [I don’t know what he’s got on you, but please, Sans. Don’t give up. I’ll help. We’ll get Alphys and even Undyne to help - somehow - just… just-]

Sans stepped back, shaking his head. “it’s not just that. you’re smart - figure it out. please.”

Frisk’s heart felt frozen as they met his gaze. Something dark had taken over his face, and he was sweating. He was desperate.

[Sans, I-]

“ _GET YOUR BONEY HANDS AWAY FROM THEM, JERK!_ ” 

Undyne rounded the corner spear-first, and Frisk jumped back. She was followed by an exhausted but triumphant Alphys, and - was that a robot?

Frisk gaped at the group, before swiveling to look back at Sans. His left eye was glowing again, and his hands were tucked into his labcoat. His lazy grin was back, but Frisk knew it was strained.

“what’s up, Undyne?”

Undyne roared. Sans put one pinky towards the side of his skull - where an ear would be on a human. Frisk stared at him, torn between wanting to push him and wanting to laugh. 

“I can _‘ear_ you just fine, y’know. you could be a little quieter,” he observed nonchalantly. Undyne’s face was wild. Frisk moved to sign something, but Sans cut them off. “how’s it goin’, Alphys? you respect a little science, right-”

Frisk shot Sans a baffled and frustrated look just as Undyne threw a spear at him. He stepped to the side, faster than Frisk’s eyes could follow, his lab coat fluttering as the spear nearly grazed it.

“Don’t you fucking speak to her, _traitor_ ,” Undyne spat out. Alphys stayed behind her, eyes unreadable behind the glare of her glasses. 

Sans shrugged. “sticks ‘n bones, captain. or i guess it really is just Undyne, huh?”

Frisk turned to Sans completely then, anger making their motions jerky. [What the hell, Sans? Why are you-]

Sans lifted his hands out of his pockets in a full shrug. He caught Frisk’s gaze. “but oh no, my evil plot. been thwarted, and all that. ahhh, curses.”

He took a step back, shifting his weight casually as another spear slammed towards him, grounding itself directly where he had been. “hate to be the guy to experiment and run,” he continued, shifting sideways as a spear whizzed by, “so i’ll just a _void_ that mess.”

A ghost of a shiver brushed across Frisk’s shoulders and without a second thought they lunged forward, reaching for Sans. He stepped to the side as they came close, eyes meeting theirs for a lingering moment as everything seemed to slow down. His grin was almost... apologetic. Their ears registered a shout behind them but they didn’t think about it. Frisk dragged their hand over, trying to grab him before he could disappear. He reached towards them, and Frisk’s eyes widened.

Sans’ hand splayed across their chest, over their heart. His eyes went dark as he shoved them, an impossible amount of force behind the contact as everything sped back up. Frisk slammed back into the wall and stars shot across their vision, making the sight of the electric blue spear passing through where they had just been all the more jarring. Before they could recover, Sans took a step and the space around him twisted and pulled - and he was gone.

Undyne cursed vehemently. Alphys ran up to Frisk, hands hovering awkwardly as she tried to scan for injuries.

“F-Frisk - are you, are you okay…?” She said, worry lacing through her voice. Undyne stamped up behind her, shooting dark looks towards the spot Sans had disappeared from. “I-I mean that’s a stupid question, of c-course you’re not okay, you’ve been trapped here for days, w-weeks-”

Frisk shook their head as the stars finally cleared their vision. [No, no. I’m okay. Tired, but fine.]

Alphys breathed out a sigh of relief, and even Undyne looked relieved.

“That’s right you little punk, you gave that bag of bones a run for it, huh?” She reached over and punched Frisk’s shoulder affectionately, almost sending them to their knees. They winced but shot her a smile. 

Alphys glanced around, looking down the hallway that led deeper into the lab. “S-so, what did he-?” She stammered to a stop as Undyne’s hand rested on her shoulder. Frisk didn’t miss the slight shake of Undyne’s head. “No, okay, yeah. P-plenty of time f-for that later. Or not!” She continued, sweating slightly as her cheeks flushed. Frisk chuckled weakly - the time that had passed had finally started to hit them. They had missed the two monster women.

“Well, darlings, can we please head to somewhere a little less… disgusting?”

Frisk’s gaze shifted to the robot leaning against the corner the trio had come around. He almost looked like a calculator, Frisk thought wildly. He rested on a single wheel, and was observing the tips of his gloved hands. Intrigued, Frisk was now trying to figure out how he managed to look repulsed when the only discernible feature of his blocky screen was a bright ‘M’. 

“Hold on for a minute, gotta check things out- uh, if that’s okay?” Undyne glanced at Frisk for a reply. She was being uncharacteristically thoughtful - then again, Frisk considered, maybe not so uncharacteristic. They nodded.

Undyne nodded her head once back. Her face was grim, and she strode further down the hallway. 

Before she could make it 10 feet past where Frisk stood, she ran directly into a barrier, her hands splaying as she stumbled back with a grunt. The translucent wall shone a soft blue and rang dully at the impact.   
“That little…” 

Frisk bit back a surprised laugh as Undyne summoned a new spear and leveled her aim directly for it. Alphys dashed forward then, jumping to grab Undyne’s arm just before she could throw it. She dangled comically from the woman’s bicep, and Undyne turned to look at her in surprise, her cheeks a dark blue. “Alphy, what the-?”

“W-we don’t know what he’s set up, Undyne,” she said quickly, face ducked to hide even as she hung there. “B-besides - I think we should really get out of here - for Frisk’s sake, and ours…”

Undyne regarded her for a moment. Then, her spear fizzled out and disappeared. She reached down to set Alphys on the ground gently. “Yeah, you’re right,” she replied gruffly as she straightened up.

“Thank you,” the calculator huffed grandly from the corner. Frisk looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“O-oh yeah! Frisk, this is Mettaton,” Alphys offered as she determinedly did not look up at Undyne. “I, I uh-”

“Alphys was lovely enough to give me a body,” Mettaton cut in. He rolled over to Frisk, offering a hand. “Enchanted, I’m sure - quite fascinating! You really are a human, aren’t you?” Frisk looked at Mettaton’s hand, extended palm down, as if expecting a kiss. They took it and shook it instead, biting their lip at the disgruntled way his screen bent slightly. 

“Yeah, yeah, our own human, kidnapped by a mad skeleton and tired as hell - so let’s get going already,” Undyne said, grabbing Frisk and Alphys and dragging them down the hallway and forcing Mettaton to roll along quickly to catch up.

After rounding the corner, Frisk no longer wondered how they had made their way in - next to what looked like an elevator door was enormous hole, metal edges bursting outwards and surrounded by enormous rubble. Mettaton rolled over the debris with ease, defying the tiny wheel he stood on. Undyne climbed past a few pieces, offering a hand down to pull Alphys up, then again for Frisk. They took it, stumbling slightly. Once they were in the hole in the wall, Frisk looked up at the far-away light that filtered in from above.

Weakly, they signed, [How long did this take…?]

“Well, it took us a few days to figure out what happened to you at Grillby’s,” Undyne huffed. She sounded less than pleased at this. “And another few days for Alphys and I to try to find a way down.”

“Th-then Undyne had the idea to get Mettaton!” Alphys added, pride flushing her face as she smiled up at her. Undyne flushed dark blue, looking away as she rubbed her neck.

Frisk grinned, and looked at Mettaton. [So you’re best with… what, explosives?] They gestured to the hole in the wall and the twisted passage above them.

Mettaton laughed, waving a hand at them. “Oh, human! So flattering! I am the best,” he replied. “And I know how to make an entrance,” he added mysteriously. Frisk decided they didn’t want to know what that meant.

“We had to be careful, though - the whole place is wired with weird sensors and magic triggers,” Undyne growled. She shook her head.

“S-some of that is m-my fault,” Alphys said. She fidgeted. 

[What do you mean?]

Alphys quickly translated, then continued, “W-well, I…”

“She’s a big nerd, is what she means!” Undyne said with a grin, looking down at Alphys with pride written across her features. Alphys flushed even further. They might both combust with the heat at this point, Frisk thought wryly.

“I- I used to be the Royal Scientist,” Alphys admitted. “B-but when things went… well…” She trailed off.

[You resigned once everything started happening with the king, right?]

Alphys nodded as she explained Frisk’s words to Mettaton and Undyne. “It’s a little fuzzy, b-but yeah. When the vines came, I think.” 

Frisk nodded. [And you had help set up some protection for the lab.]

“Y-yeah. A lot of it is from the former Royal Scientist, and Sans added his own… t-twist,” she added, shaking her head. “S-so there were layers we had to get through - normal stuff, then magic tech, then magic traps and triggers…”

“I got to punch through some of it,” Undyne said with a grin. “And Alphys was brilliant and broke through the traps and stuff.”

“And I made the rest possible,” Mettaton said. “So can we leave, now?”

Undyne snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I actually agree for once, at least on the second part. Ready, guys?”

Alphys and Frisk nodded. [So how do we get back up?]

Alphys translated, and looked to Undyne. Without a word, Undyne scooped up Alphys and held onto her bridal style, making Alphys squeak. Mettaton offered an arm to Frisk, who took it with a question on their face. Undyne turned, and scowled at Mettaton. “You better grab hold of ‘em, Mettaton.”

Mettaton rolled his eyes - ones that had blinked into existence on his screen. He reached out and picked Frisk up, surprisingly gentle. “As crude as she is, she’s right. This is a little jarring,” he said. “Hold on, darling.”

Before Frisk could ask, Undyne lept upwards with Alphys, jumping up the impossibly tall shaft in bounds as she made contact with rough portions of its walls. Frisk heard a strange mechanical noise from Mettaton, and suddenly they were in the air, force dragging Frisk closer to Mettaton as jets sparked into life. With the roar of the flames, they shot up and towards freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! <3
> 
> Thank you all so much, if you've been waiting since I posted the last chapter. There were some really bad family health things that happened, so I've been away from writing & the internet as a whole for the most part. Everything's better now, though, and I took the time to flesh out the full structure of the story so I don't miss anything moving forward. It's also keeping me on track, and moving forward I'll be back on a weekly update schedule :)
> 
> With the time I have back & some other good luck, I've also just posted my other Undertale story I've been mulling over for a while now! It'll also be updating weekly (though this one will take precedence should things get rough). It's called _Speakeasy Soul_ , and full disclosure it's a measure of how deep in Undertale hell I am - it's a Sans/Reader (not Frisk) UT!mob fic. Check it out if you're interested!
> 
> As always, I really love to hear from you all! Reading back over the comments you've left so far helped me find the courage to get back into this story after everything that happened, and gave me the determination to keep writing. <3


	10. Settling Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The memory stabbed at them, and their hands paused to rest at their chest for a moment. Alphys and Undyne’s faces twisted in concern, but Frisk waved them off. [He tried to stop me, but it was like I was in panic mode. I exhausted the last of my energy, and…]_
> 
> _“You died…”_

“Tra la la, beware the-”

“Stop speaking in riddles, dammit.”

“Tra la la, eat a mushroom everyday.”

“I swear to the stars, I will  _ end you _ .”

“Tra la la, just seeing if you’re paying attention~”

Undyne’s scream would have shook the very walls of the Underground if Alphys hadn’t slapped her hands over her mouth. Frisk bit back a tired laugh from the back of the boat. The Riverperson had been waiting for them once they escaped the lab in Hotland, and Alphys had mumbled some form of direction to them once Undyne had finally set her down. Mettaton was standing very still in the middle of the boat, arms out awkwardly.

Alphys caught Frisk’s eyes as she slowly lowered her hands, Undyne grumbling and looking away.

Frisk signed to her, glancing at Mettaton. [Is he… okay?]

Alphys snorted. “H-he’s fine. Just a-afraid of water-”

Mettaton beeped a series of tones in offended protest. “I am  _ not _ afraid, thank you very much doctor, merely… aware of the risks,” he said, wobbling slightly. He waved his arms, catching his balance. Frisk had the feeling it was a rare sight. After a moment, he continued, “you would be… aware… too, if you sank like a rock and were made of water-damageable machinery.”

Frisk snickered silently, resting their head against the back of the boat as they crested through the water. They let their gaze fall to river, catching the broken reflection of the glowing crystals far above them. They were heading deep into the caverns, into a place Alphys had told them was called Waterfall. 

It was aptly named, to be certain. 

Gentle rivulets of water cascaded down smooth, worn stone on either side, and the Riverperson guided them through winding corridors of intersecting streams with ease despite heading upriver, humming a tune along the way. The song was sweet and oddly haunting, and Frisk felt a nostalgic tightness in their chest as they drifted deeper into the glowing caves. 

At last, the Riverperson drifted the boat to a stop. Alphys, Undyne, and Mettaton disembarked automatically, apparently fully recognizing the stop. Frisk followed them after taking a long glance down the corridor they had just come from. Sparkling crystals lit the way behind, forward, to the side… gently glowing. Frisk felt drawn towards them.

After tearing their gaze away, they looked back towards the riverperson, signing, [Thank you for the safe passage,] and bowing. Frisk heard a “huh?” from Undyne, and felt a look of confusion from Alphys, but some things just felt necessary. After a moment, the riverperson chuckled. Their cloak flared outwards, and they bowed in return.

“Tra la la… some traditions are borne in blood,” they replied. Frisk cocked their head to the side, brow furrowing.

“More riddles,” Undyne muttered.

Frisk was about to ask the Riverperson for more information, but the boat lifted out of the water on a set of cat-like legs, and suddenly they were gone, racing off down the corridor. A laugh and the echo of the same haunting song drifted in their wake.

“D-don’t worry too much about what they s-say,” Alphys said to Frisk, gaze sympathetic. “T-trying to figure it out is kind of like t-trying to figure out why water is wet,” she added. Mettaton was already rolling forward, Undyne pushing to step ahead of him, so Alphys turned and hurried to catch up too. Frisk was right behind her after a glance back down the riverway and just a moment of further hesitation.

They walked around a small pond that glowed a cobalt blue, and Frisk tried to make out their reflection in it as they passed. Only the vaguest shimmering silhouette was reflected. They watched as Undyne paused ahead of them, glancing to a passage on the left with something like longing. She steeled herself after a moment though, and strode to the right. Mettaton rolled in front of her quickly, and Frisk finally saw where they were heading - two sloping houses rose in front of them. The one on the left looked empty, with strange puncture holes in it and half the roof missing. Mettaton rolled up to the other one, which looked a little worse for wear but was still intact. He unlocked the door with a key he slipped from… somewhere, and rolled in. Undyne, Alphys, and Frisk followed quickly after.

Undyne shut the door behind them, then generated a spear and lodged it against the door in a way that prevented it from being opened. She pushed Frisk further in, seeing them hesitate. 

The main room of the house was brilliantly pink, and Frisk almost reeled as their eyes tried to adjust to the change in atmosphere. A pink bed was in one corner, and a little TV in the other. Frisk went up to the TV, curiosity overcoming their exhaustion. It looked like an old model of the ones humans had developed on the surface - but rather than a series of cables to separate magical signals that humans had developed, there was… nothing. No cords, just a little antenna set on top of it. Frisk squinted at it, and moved to try to turn it on. Was it just for decoration, or could it work like with nothing feeding into it…?

Alphys’ hand caught at their arm. She smiled nervously and pointed to the antenna. “W-we shouldn’t risk the magic signals,” she said. Frisk pulled their hand away and nodded, desperately wanting to know more - but they reigned it in. Now wasn’t the time to explore that sort of knowledge. As they stood, Mettaton pressed something on the adjacent wall, and a steep, curling slide appeared from the ceiling.

“I’ve got to record my next Undernet video for my fans, darlings. Do try and keep my house in one piece,” he said, somehow rolling up the nearly vertical ramp.

“Don’t say anything that’ll give us away-!” Undyne shouted after him. She was cut off by a wave and a beeping sigh. The slide retracted, and Alphys, Undyne, and Frisk were left alone in the room. 

Giving into their exhaustion, Frisk moved to the bed and flopped on it. They felt a twinge of guilt when they remembered how long it had been since they had been able to clean up, but they figured that Mettaton probably didn’t even sleep in the bed. Could robots sleep? Huh. Frisk filed that away for future exploration.

“So, kid…” Undyne began after a moment. Frisk rolled their head over so they could look at her. She cleared her throat, then framed her hands on her hips. A few awkward moments passed as her face turned a deeper blue. Finally, she sighed and plopped on the ground. She crossed her legs and leaned an arm on one leg. Looking away, she gave Alphys a moment to situate herself on the ground as well. 

Frisk managed to pull themselves to a sitting position, leaning back against the wall at the head of the bed. They smiled at Undyne, letting her know they were okay to talk.

Undyne nodded at them. “So, do you know what happened to you down there?” She asked, frowning. Her visible eye was scrunched a little, concern warring with frustration.

Frisk nodded. [I do now, kind of. I met Sans at Grillby’s, and grabbed him when he teleported back to the lab. And… he was experimenting on me,] they said, wary of Undyne’s reaction. Alphys translated as Frisk signed, and sure enough Undyne growled and she punched the ground so hard the floorboards splintered.

“That little  _ shit _ ,” she said. “Did he hurt you?”

Frisk made a face. That was more complicated. [I can’t remember a lot of it. He was… somehow erasing my memories. I think… trying to mimic a reset, on a small scale. But they started to come back - he didn’t have the machine set up right,] they explained, knowing that some of it wouldn’t make sense. [But we didn’t fight all the time. And he never tried to  _ hurt- _ hurt me - he just… wore me out, I think. I would fight him, a lot. The latest one - the one I can remember - I think I was exhausted. I was too out of energy…] They said. The memory stabbed at them, and their hands paused to rest at their chest for a moment. Alphys and Undyne’s faces twisted in concern, but Frisk waved them off. [He tried to stop me, but it was like I was in panic mode. I exhausted the last of my energy, and…]

“You died…” Alphys breathed out. Undyne’s eyes went wide as she glanced between Frisk and Alphys. Frisk grimaced, and nodded.

“Wait, if you died, then how…?” Undyne said, her face a war of emotions. “You don’t mean…?”

Frisk looked to Alphys. She already knew, she had put it together, and it was written across her face. With a deep breath, Frisk nodded.

[I can Save. Apparently, I “Load” when I die.]

Alphys translated. Undyne swore, low and under her breath.

“So wait, have you died before? Why didn’t you tell us?” She demanded, leaning forward. Frisk looked away, grimacing again. Undyne narrowed her eyes, mind clearly working quickly. At last, her eye widened. “You mean, with me…?”

Huffing out a silent, sardonic laugh, Frisk looked back at her. They grinned wryly.

[I’m glad for more reasons than one that we’re on the same side now,] they said. Alphys translated with a snort of awed disbelief. Undyne’s face was split between pride and guilt.

“Er, I’m, uh… I’m sorry?” She said. Frisk waved her off.

[You were doing what you thought was right. I’m just lucky that after a few runs you wore me out to the point that I passed out in exhaustion, in the end,] they said. 

Undyne shook her head in disbelief. Alphys spoke up then and said, “I-I mean, I’ll admit I wondered - I figured you had done research on the surface, and you ran into that woman in the Ruins who had apparently talked to you about it, but you seemed so steady in your knowledge of it, even then…”

Undyne looked at her, surprised for a moment before shaking her head. “Shoulda known you’d be onto something like that,” she said. Finally remembering the original conversation then, she whipped her head back to Frisk. “So wait, you died in a battle with Sans, then? But he tried to stop you?”

Frisk nodded. [I don’t think I had died up to that point… and that was earlier today. So, what… two weeks without him hurting me in a way that could kill me, or something like that?] They mused. Undyne and Alphys frowned, guilt flashing on their faces. Frisk started signing again quickly. [No, no, I don’t want you to feel guilty! It seems like it was ridiculously difficult to break in as it was, and I saw firsthand and can remember at least a little of how strong Sans is…]

After translating, Alphys nodded. “H-he’s really, really smart, too. The k-king had actually asked him to become the Royal Scientist after the one before me died. Sans declined, though - even though he had been apprenticing even before I had been…]

[Wait, wait - you were apprentices for the last Royal Scientist  _ together _ ?] Frisk signed.

“Y-yeah,” she admitted, looking away. “I was taken on maybe a couple of years after Sans started,” she said, looking towards the ceiling. “A-and then, a year - or what  _ seems _ like a year ago - the last scientist…” she trailed off, a haunted look crossing her face.

“There was an accident in the Core,” Undyne cut in darkly. “The whole Underground lost power, and it didn’t come back on until the next day. A chunk of the structure had kind of exploded when the power went out, but all of a sudden it was repaired.”

“I-I think Sans fixed it,” Alphys said quietly. “Everyone thinks h-he was with the doctor when… w-when whatever it was happened. He was never quite the same after that. He quit the lab, declined the king’s offer, and no one saw him for a while.”

“He and… his brother moved to Snowdin around then,” Undyne said, looking away. “And Sans helped his brother run the sentry stations in the area. Then, 6 months ago, Alphys quits… and suddenly,” she bit out, “that little coward takes the job, even though the king…”

She trailed off. Alphys and her were both looking away. You hadn’t been able to get the details about what had happened 6 months ago - or this round of it, anyways - but it seemed… bad.

Finally, Alphys sighed, slumping a little. “A-anyways, he’s the new Royal Scientist. From w-what we’ve heard, he doesn’t live in Snowdin anymore, a-and is really only seen at Grillby’s and s-sometimes in the Capital,” she said.

“We have to keep an eye on him,” Undyne said bitterly. “Former friend or not.”

Everything was finally fitting together for Frisk.

[I’m sorry,] they signed after a few moments. Alphys looked up at them, translated, and Undyne looked up too. [I can’t… imagine how hard that must be.]

A moment passed between the three. Frisk’s core thrummed with their echoing empathy, and for a moment they felt a dull echo of the pain the other two had experienced in the strange blur of six months and 15 years.

And at that moment, the walls caved in. The moment moved slowly as Frisk jolted upright, watching as dozens of vines burst through the sloping walls adjacent and across from them, watching the stone crumble and burst into rubble, watching Alphys yelp and dive away as Undyne snarled and summoned an electric spear to her hand. She snatched at Alphys and shoved her behind her. A shrill scream sounded above them and the chunk of ceiling above Frisk began to cave in. They rolled away, hitting the ground hard as they scrambled back and time caught up with them again. Mettaton landed on the bed in a heap of rubble, static noises rolling out of him in a groan. 

Undyne was moving incredibly fast, throwing spears at the vines, pinning them briefly before they broke free again. 

“You have to go!” She roared, unable to spare a look behind her as she knocked another vine away. Frisk pulled Mettaton out of the rubble heap and he shook himself off. Alphys was nearly frozen, torn between running and standing firm beside Undyne. “ _ Now! _ ” she shouted, diving to spear a vine that had tried to snake around her. This left Alphys open, and Frisk saw a vine shoot out from the side and head straight for her. No voice to scream, and Undyne was too distracted - Frisk dove for Alphys, knocking her to the side -

The vine pierced their side, ripping through bandages and clothing. Pain shot white hot through them and clouded their mind and vision as they dropped to their knees, coughing up blood. Quickly they snatched the vine piercing them and held it firm - they pulled at their core, just enough to gather power at their fingertips, and scrawled a few signs on its surface. They ripped it out of them and fought the urge to pass out, then released the energy as they shoved it away. The vine exploded from within, and Frisk dropped to the ground.

The shouts and noise of the crumbling building hit their ears numbly as their eyes closed, everything blurring. Something pulled at them, grabbing their arms, but they had no awareness left to spare. With a sickening pulse, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OTL//////
> 
> Sorry, Frisk... once you open the box to search for answers, it's not so easy to close.
> 
> As always, I really love to hear from you all! It's exciting to slowly add pieces to the puzzle, and your comments give me the determination to keep writing. <3 Please drop by _askdarkeryetdark.tumblr.com_ to ask questions of the characters, if you're interested! I'm happy to provide what glimpses I can into the behind-the-scenes. 
> 
> Also, feel free to ask about the magic of the world - both on the surface and Underground! I'm happy to elaborate, unless it's a total spoiler.


	11. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Did things really grow stronger when they broke...?_

_ “Get them out of here!” The roar shook the walls. Even the ground was shaking. Everything was darker than dark, coursing with pain and immobility, crushing, clinging… _

\-----------------

The vines had pursued Frisk and their mother with a mindless ferocity.

Their mother had hit the ground outside the inn running, wetness trailing down her cheeks to slip into Frisk’s hair. Their head was tucked into the crook of her neck and shoulder, and a low sound between a broken sob and a vicious growl threatened to tear out of Frisk’s mother’s throat. Frisk clung desperately to her, unable to do anything but stare out at the sight of the crumbling inn they were being carried away from. Frisk’s mother’s tight, dark curls were twisted into braids that whipped out behind her in the ember-lit air, tickling the side of Frisk’s face.

Frisk could only watch as the vines followed them out the door, fires blazing alongside and around enormous vines thicker than two people high that were rolling down the streets framing the inn.

Anguished screams and angry shouts echoed through the streets as buildings crumbled. Frisk could see the shadows of vines crawling over and crashing through other buildings in the city. The stars were hidden behind clouds and smoke. In the distance, behind the vines, Mt. Ebott’s shadow loomed. 

Frisk tried to get their hands to move, they had to say something, sign something to their mother, had to help somehow. Instead, their hands shook uncontrollably, so they clenched them into fists. Emptiness rolled nauseously through their core. 

Their mother clenched them tighter as she took a sharp corner after nearly a minute of running. The following moment was the first time Frisk remembered their mother taking a hand off them following what had happened at the inn. 

It would not be the last.

Struggling to see with urgency blooming in them, Frisk tried to turn, but their mother’s remaining hand pressed them tighter against her, and Frisk clung helplessly as they felt a static, piercing warmth spark near their belly, against their mother’s front. She was muttering low, and shifted quickly. Frisk hugged her closer.

With their eyes squeezed shut, they could almost feel the strange swirl of energy at their mother’s core. It was sharp and bright, reminding them of a citrus fruit mixed with the dazzling sparks of electric fire she had often teased Frisk with. The energy swirled down the arm she had pulled away from Frisk, where it met and mixed with an energy that was something… earthier. Frisk wished they knew what that meant. They held their mother close, desperately close, encouragingly close. They wished they could help.

Suddenly, a wave of electric-bright heat blasted away from them. The sudden crunch of air quickly evacuated by something very solid and very large hit Frisk’s ears, and suddenly they were moving again. They felt their mother’s hand return to them as she sprinted forward, past… something.

Frisk’s eyes went wide as they finally glimpsed the enormous hole mirrored on each side of the alleyway. Vines were retreating into the darkness of both.

\-----------

_ “We have to go, Alphys!” _

_ Choked sobs. Something cracked in the distance. _

\-----------

The scrunching of the space between Frisk’s eyebrows deepened as they took a stumbling step backward and spun to run away from the shuttering swipe of a glowing blue hand. 

As if coming out of a heavy migraine, Frisk ground their teeth and fought off the painful fog that had been clouding every one of their senses for the last several minutes. They had awoken - come to? - in… a room, or a hallway. Tile was everywhere, and the air was clammy. Hadn’t they been at a bar…? Then  _ he  _ had been there, told them to run. His eye had flashed blue, and Frisk hadn’t waited to figure things out.

But now… no more running. Their legs, every muscle, every fiber of their being was heavy, laden with confusion and exhaustion. Somehow they had entered a room filled with beds and a low fog. Or maybe the fog was just their mind trying to externally manifest the feeling in their head and core.

Too tired, too tired, Frisk fell backwards in something akin to relief on one of the beds. It was eerily chilly and firmer than they had expected. Yet somehow even still, it felt so inviting.

Their mind, something deep in it, whispered a warning to keep moving, as if their memories were trying to push something towards them. Meanwhile their instincts coming from their core told them to be alert, but to rest regardless. Their body was simply done with moving.

Not sure if time was moving quite right in the midst of the fog, they struggled back up to a sitting position. Something brushed goosebumps across their shoulders, and they felt a shift of space in front of them.

“run.”

Even the small movement to lift their eyes was slow, too slow, too hard. Maybe they should lay back down. They met the dark eyesockets of the skeleton in front of them with a look of vague confusion. They knew him. He knew them. Right?

He stood in front of them, his left hand dangling limply at his side, the other tucked into the pocket of his worn labcoat. Frisk had to lift their head up to look at his face, and stars above did it take effort. But they wanted to look at him. Their memory pulled at them, inching recollection too slowly. The spark forgotten at Frisk’s core sputtered and pulsed gently.

Time passed. Frisk only knew it did so by the slow shift of the wisping fog curling in the room, and by the slight flutter of the hem of Sans’ labcoat as a distant fan kicked on.

Sans… 

[Sans…?]

The hand hanging at his side twitched, almost imperceptibly. Frisk’s eyes narrowed just slightly, as if the answers to the questions they couldn’t find were hidden in the contours of his skull.

“run, kid. fight. anything.” The way his voice wavered sparked at Frisk’s core again, something like buried  instinct putting a hint of knowledge there that their mind couldn’t quite grasp. Several moments passed. Then, slowly, they shook their head.

How long had they been there? The fog wouldn’t move, not in their head. Around them, the true fog curled along and around them. 

“why…?”

Frisk realized they weren’t looking at Sans anymore. Their gaze had fallen to his chest. They wondered if he breathed.

[Can’t,] they managed to sign. Their hands felt like they moved of their own volition. Then, [... won’t.]

His chest shifted then, and Frisk thought they caught a slip of a sound from him. Almost like a growl, almost like a groan. Small, soft, deep.

“do you really remember me?” He said, quietly. 

He sounded like he didn’t want to know. Like he hoped, too, but wasn’t sure what he hoped the answer would be.

Frisk’s eyes shifted upwards again. Small white lights had returned to his eyesockets, though they were dim. Just slightly, Frisk’s head tilted.

The spark in their core flickered warmly. Their mind struggled against the chill of their mental fog. Their body… well, it didn’t feel  _ wrong _ to have him here, right in front of them. 

[No,] they said. He tensed. [But also… yes?] They continued, hands tentative in their movements. His eyes brightened, they thought. But his expression was tentative, and the small frown on his face deepened even still. 

He seemed like he was waiting.

Finally Frisk shifted their hand, then tapped their chest gently. [... here.]

Something in him snapped. “just fight back,” he said, the sound almost a growl. His fist clenched at his side. Frisk shook their head. He took a step forward, bringing himself even closer. His foot almost brushed against Frisk’s. “i can make you,” he said.

Frisk considered this for a moment. Then, they sighed a very small sigh. They shook their head, and tapped their chest, just once. 

Sans looked away, his whole body rigid. “you need to fight me. you can - you should - forget me. that’s the point. but... please. remember that much…”

Looking deep into them, Frisk tried to find the will, the intent to fight. He seemed so… earnest. They wanted to help. Right?

But they simply couldn’t find any intent within themselves to potentially hurt him. Quietly, they formed a soft fist with their right hand and moved it to their chest. They slipped it in a single small circle over their heart.

[I’m sorry.]

Sans exhaled. Weariness sank onto his shoulders, unbidden. Frisk’s core echoed a dull, distant ache. They reached out to him, body moving more on those core instincts than consciously. They grasped the edge of his labcoat, near the pocket his hand was tucked in. Stronger now, they ached.

Sans looked at Frisk’s hand in surprise even as they saw the strange, impossible lines beneath his eyes darken. 

[Do you think you’ll hurt me?]

His eyes darkened again, the pinpricks in his eyes nearly disappearing. He looked away. He couldn’t answer.

More importantly, Frisk knew, he couldn’t say that he would.

“i’ve hurt you before,” he answered at last.

Frisk waved him off, sitting back slightly to try to better catch his gaze. He refused. They struggled against the fog, their body feeling heavier and heavier.

“then fight me for everyone else’s sake, Frisk. find it in you…”

As Frisk’s body gently slumped to the side, they swear they saw something else in Sans eyes. Why did he want to fight? And… who were  _ they  _ fighting for…?

They were unconscious before they even hit the pillow.

\----------

_ There was a certain kind of heaviness that crushed one’s chest in the darkest of nights.  _

_ Wetness, the sensation of being cradled. Breath straining against a too-tight chest. Gears clicked somewhere nearby. _

\----------

Frisk had wiggled out of their mom’s grasp at some point, finally able to coordinate their movements well enough to do so. They tried to focus on moving quickly alongside their mother and not on the sounds echoing through the burning city. 

Their mother held their hand tightly as they ran. Her chest was heaving slightly - it was the only reason she had finally let them down to run beside her. They had passed a number of other fleeing groups and individuals, chaos reigning clear. Some were injured, some angry, some out of their minds with terror and grief - all moving outwards, outwards, away from the distant shadow of Mt. Ebott.

The vines were growing less coordinated, but Frisk felt even more scared at that shift. Their mother was still able to get them around the more mindless vines, but she wasn’t able to focus on fending off attacks from any direction. Holding tight to her hand, Frisk tried to be a good lookout.

Frisk clenched their little fist around their mother’s hand encouragingly. She squeezed back as she peered around a corner.

Then she squeezed it harder as she inhaled sharply. She shoved Frisk behind her, careful but hard nonetheless. Frisk felt the spark coming from her core again and wordlessly stood behind her, eyes narrowing in determination even as their heart beat wildly. From around their mother’s legs they caught the sight of a figure in the middle of the street, directly in the shadow of a falling vine.

Two figures, they realized. One, the larger one, a young girl in a tunic crouching over someone - someone small, who had hair in the same tight curls as the crouching one, with the same sun-spotted dark skin. The two figures, the siblings, were huddled in the street - the younger was tense with pain as the older stood as a shield. In front of them, nearly on top of them, was a wall of vines burnt and bright with fire.

Frisk’s mother’s hands moved quickly, glowing signs etched in the air as their skin began to crackle, and the sense of rich earth returned for a brief moment before she  _ pushed _ and Frisk shielded their eyes at the pulse of light. Then they were running, Frisk’s mother tugging them to keep up. They met eyes for a brief moment, matching deep brown eyes flashing in understanding. Frisk quickened their pace, their small legs moving fast to match pace. Together, they bolted to the huddled siblings in the street, both looking upward as golden magic arched over them, insignias and runes whirling dangerously against writhing vines and fire. Frisk’s mother scooped up the two children and turned on her heel as Frisk darted forward, leading them down the street and away from the vines with a quick step and a thrumming pulse.

\----------

_ Crushing pressure slowed an unsteady beat. Their core hurt. The darkness became darker yet. _

_ “Stay with us, n-not yet, you can’t yet-” _

\----------

The beat of their heart obscured the pulse of their core, and Frisk tried to focus on breathing deeply to calm it down. It had been a week they had guessed, or something close. Too long, too long without proper sleep, without proper rest. 

With a silent grunt of effort, Frisk released the single rune they had drawn on the cold stone wall. Their wisp of magic released and lingered, and they took off at a run down the hallway, willing their booted feet to be quiet even as they breathed too heavily. Behind them, in curling paths and assorted crannies of the serpentine lab, they felt the vague trail of their own magic.

They couldn’t remember what had happened so far. They had awoken in front of Sans, his name echoing like the cracking of thunder in their head, a strange look on his face. Everything had swum as their memory tried to rush in, but something deeper blurred it all. They ran, but running had only taken them away from the skeleton monster for so long. He had appeared next to them before they could try to pierce through the strange blurred wall in their mind, and no matter where they hid he had found them. They wouldn’t fight. Couldn’t. They weren’t sure why. That was all they could feel, not in their mind, but in the spark of their core.

The spark, a low fire if anything, had given them the idea to try to shake his trail. Little, little by little, they had left what they thought of as an ‘ember’ of their magic in various places around the lab as they ran. Sans hadn’t been keeping up with them as well since they had started - time was no longer meaningful, they only knew it passed, but it had been… significantly longer than usual since they had seen them. They were trying to throw him off their trail, and it seemed to be working.

Now, though, the low fire had dimmed to a flickering spark. It felt too familiar. It felt like a wound that kept reopening, like a cut that kept bleeding because it never had the time to fully scab over before something brushed it open again.

Tucking themselves into a dark corner they came across, Frisk sunk to the floor. They curled up, tucking their knees close to their chest. Their soft calf boots were warm and familiar against their legs, their worn sweater torn and fraying at the edges but still it gave them some false semblance of safety deep in this cold, nearly abandoned lab. 

No matter how they pulled and pushed, they couldn’t break through the fog around their memory. Somehow they knew that they had been here for about a week. Before… before this, they had been at Grillby’s, just before they had been taken here. Everything after that… Frisk’s head buzzed and throbbed as the memories slipped from them like mist through their fingers.

Suddenly, something tickled their shoulders. There was a pulse of misplaced space.

“that was too clever,” Sans said. Frisk tried to scramble backward at the sound of his voice, but the wall behind them stayed firm as ever. Their eyes darted upwards to his face. It was in shadow, but his left eye glowed a soft blue. “leaving traces of your magic as decoys…” his voice was quiet. Intrigued. Curious. Then, he sighed softly. “... you  _ soul _ ’d’ve kept moving, though.”

Frisk tensed. They couldn’t have kept going if they tried. Physically, mentally… even the spark at their core was weak. Something in them balked as if in memory of something that had hurt them. They struggled though - even if they couldn’t fight, they could try to run, to flee, for just a little longer. Their hand twitched, torn between signing to him and drawing something in the air.

With a flash Sans’ eye glowed, and Frisk glowed too. 

\----------

_ The kind of quiet pressed in, the kind that even a breath couldn’t break. _

\----------

Their legs ached dully as they moved onwards. Their mother’s hand drifted to their soft mop of hair, a single soothing slip and ruffle before she had to readjust, still carrying the two siblings from earlier - they had been too weak to run further. The older one was passed out, clearly badly injured despite the brave front she had put on earlier. The younger was awake, but their eyes were clenched tightly closed and they clung to their sister firmly. 

Frisk worked with their mother as they navigated the crumbling city, determination blazing bright in their breast as they darted and pulled people out of the way of crumbling pillars and flames and vines before pushing at them to keep going. Their mother worked her strange magic to push the vines back, merely grunting at Frisk to move quickly, carefully, as she knew that Frisk would not hide in safety. So instead, they worked together, saving the people that they came across from an untimely end.

Over an hour had passed, surely, since they had escaped the inn. Frisk tried to focus only on the current moment, on the little fire burning bright within them, on helping their mother.

They were moving slower now. Frisk was weary, but their mother was carrying two children and had been pushing back the vines whenever she could, whenever was necessary. Frisk was bright. They knew that they had to reach safety soon. With purpose, they moved towards the sounds of the open air, towards where they could sense people migrating with urgency.

After ducking through another alleyway they reached an open square filled with people. Frisk’s eyes widened.

Dust and ash and rubble clung to clothing and tear-stained faces everywhere. The crowd of people was noisy, yet urgently hushed - fear and worry seeped through the plaza, where people had apparently stopped temporarily to regroup, tend to wounds, and harden themselves before fleeing. At the end closer to the city’s center, near where Frisk and their mother had emerged, was a group of scholar-mages sporting the long tunics of the nearby arcane university. Another group of scholars was tending to some of the more seriously wounded, wearing the insignia of trainees in the healing arts, while a few others guarded a group of children.

One of mages approached Frisk and their mother, who was still holding the children. Chest sparking, Frisk stepped in front of them, lifting one hand to their side in a protective block. Their arm barely lifted to the level of their mother’s waist, but their silent gaze spoke enough. The mage came to a stop a little ahead of them.

“Are they yours?” The mage asked. They made a small gesture to Frisk and the children their mother carried. 

“Just this one,” Frisk’s mother replied softly, her hand brushing across Frisk’s hair for the quickest of moments. “These two we rescued a short time ago,” she said. Frisk felt her shift behind them, probably readjusting their grip.

The mage looked over all of them. Too young to quite recognize the signs of age, Frisk couldn’t quite tell how old they were - the lines at the corners of their eyes could well be from the events of that night alone. Somehow, Frisk felt they understood such a sentiment.

“We’re taking a group of children, those without guardians so far, with us - they’ll be safe, protected, and we’ll work to reunite them with… with what families we can,” the mage said. They swallowed heavily, but their gaze was steady. 

Frisk’s mother hesitated. Frisk stared harder at the mage, who was simply gazing at their mother and the two siblings. Slowly, the mage reached out. Frisk’s mother remained still.

“Please, ma’am, you need your own wounds healed. You’re clearly running low on energy, too. You have enough to worry about,” the mage said. Their eyes flickered to Frisk.

Carefully, gently, Frisk’s mother handed the mage the two small children they carried. The mage tried not to show the effort they had to exert to carry both. A bit of pride pulled a fierce smile on Frisk’s face. Their mother was strong physically too, not just in her spirit. They were going to be like her one day, they were determined.

Frisk’s mother lingered her hands on the two children. They had both gone unconscious, it seemed. She whispered something, too low to hear, but Frisk saw her lips move.

“Stay determined,” she murmured. 

Frisk stepped forward and slipped their hand into their mother’s. With a small squeeze, they gave their mother a brave smile. The mage stepped away with the children as Frisk’s mother looked back down at them, a sad smile on her face. “Thank you, dear heart,” she said. She scooped them up then, and Frisk realized they had been shivering only as they slowed and stopped in the warmth of her embrace.

Quietly, Frisk’s mother strode towards the healers. There was a line. They waited, holding tight to one another, until suddenly a large portion of the crowd started shouting. 

Frisk couldn’t quite make it out - there were too many of them, people who had already been getting rowdy. They frowned at them, and held their mother tighter to protect her. 

One’s voice, a scratchy tenor, then rose above the rest. “They came from the monsters!” He shouted, pointed at the ominous shapes of the vines crawling through the city. “Even sealed away, they want to take our own!”

The arms supporting Frisk tensed slightly. They pulled back to look at their mother, and saw that she was looking at the group, her brows pulled down, her mouth a hard line.

“Those demons only want destruction!” The man continued.

“But aren’t they dead by now?” Another shouted back, unsure.

“They’re not even real,” a new one added.

“Monsters don’t need to eat or drink, they simply feed off misery and pain,” the original man snarled. “They steal the souls of children, consuming them to gain power-” An angry noise went through the crowd. “-and they’re biding their time, waiting to unleash their unholy powers on us again, wanting to pillage and-”

The noise spiked as others in the group started shouting again, now in agreement, each suggesting something more horrible than the last. It continued-

“Why would our government let them live? We should have destroyed them long ago-”

“We should burn the mountain down, to make sure they can’t escape-”

“-these vines are from them, sent forward before they come for us! We have to retaliate-”

“-not human, don’t deserve to live-”

“ _ SILENCE! _ ” 

Frisk’s hands hadn’t needed to clap over their ears - their mother had tucked them against her neck, one hand covering the ear not pressed against her skin. She was the source of the order, the source of the shocked silence that settled over the crowd. Her voice spoke power, her stance spoke knowledge, her fierce expression spoke everything else.

“You, you think you’re better than the souls trapped under that mountain - the souls forced down there,  _ by us _ , almost 150 years ago?” She demanded. Her voice had quieted, no need to shout any longer. There was a shuffling in the crowd, but several faces still rang of disgust and contempt. “You -  _ we _ measure our level of morality, of collective knowledge, of goodness and decency in terms of being  _ human _ , as if we were the only species deserving of consideration and rights,” she continued. Frisk pulled back, trying to see her face, but her mother kept them tucked close. “There may be no human alive who remembers a monster in the flesh, but you should not forget your  _ humanity, _ ” she said with venom. Softer, then, her voice still echoing, “Countless records exist telling us of their goodness. Of how they reached out to us, in many places and eras, offering support, offering shared wisdom, offering peace. And we spat on them.” Her eyes flashed in the fire-framed air. “They were,  _ are  _ still individuals. Yes, there existed those less kind, and simultaneously there were those far more kind than normal. Just as is the case with humans. Somehow still, they maintained an overall level of kindness and compassion that  _ we  _ are apparently unable to match.”

Frisk stared behind their mother, flames glowing in the distance against their warming face. They weren’t sure if it was the warmth of their mother’s core or the distant fires that felt more heated. 

With a deep steadying breath, Frisk’s mother turned to walk away, ignoring the beckoning of a healer who had become available in the distraction of the crowd. Before leaving the square, though, she paused. Her face turned, and Frisk watched the faces of the crowd now as their mother spoke over her shoulder. “We all have souls. We all deserve kindness. We all deserve respect, and empathy. Most of the time, having that is enough to spark change.”

Their mother moved their gaze ahead and made to step forward. 

The earth rolled. Frisk’s mother gasped, and Frisk’s eyes opened wide. The splitting of the ground beneath them echoed through the square as screams cleaved the air.

\--------

_ Did things really grow stronger when they broke...? Strength wrapped around them, holding tight - unsteady, but sure... _

\--------

“you’re just gonna have to accept that you’re  _ frisk _ outta luck, kid.”

[That was  _ terrible _ .]

“i think you mean it was  _ sans _ tastic.”

[No, I don’t, you  _ bonehead _ . Now tell me what you’re trying to do.]

“you’re a lot more difficult when you’re talking instead of fighting.”

[Deal with it.]

“getting  _ frisky _ , now, are we?”

[You already used that one!]

Frisk fought the grin blooming on their face as they sighed in exasperation. They tucked one leg underneath their other, kicking the latter out a little as it dangled over the edge of the tall bed. Sans sat across from them, both legs dangling off the bed as he leaned back on his hands. He shot them a lazy grin and shrugged.

Something had gone wrong, the last time Sans had… done whatever it was he had been doing. Frisk had woken up in his arms, meeting his startled gaze with one of their own. He had almost dropped them. Frisk’s head still ached, just a little - they remembered originally grabbing Sans at Grillby’s, the shattered void for a split second of eternity - then landing in the lab. They almost remembered fighting Sans, and talking with him, and running on different occasions… but it was like trying to peer through foggy glass. They knew that all these rounds of waking up, then fighting, talking, or running had happened, and they could recall the vague feelings associated with each run-in, but they couldn’t grasp the specific memories.

“not my fault you remembered,” he said.

[Uh, it apparently definitely is,] Frisk replied with a roll of their eyes. He had been shocked when Frisk managed to explain that they remembered, at least kind of. Then he had been confused. Frisk saw the uncertainty in his eyes, and had quickly signed that he should forget trying to fight them for now. It had been.. a week and a half, maybe, of Frisk being in the lab. They needed a break. Without waiting for a reply, they broke the cycle and they had trotted off, trying to find the room full of beds that they could tentatively recall. After a few moments, he had followed.

Sans grimaced now, almost looking sheepish. “yeah, woops. can’t deny that one.” He met Frisk’s gaze. “... i’m sorry,” he continued.

Frisk shook their head. [No, you’re not. I understand though,] they signed. Sans frowned. [Whatever, whoever it is you’re doing this for… I’m sure I’d do anything I could to help them if I were you, too.]

Sans flopped back on the bed. Frisk had the distinct feeling as they had walked away from him earlier that he had felt… relieved. That relief seemed to be warring with disbelief now. “you’re not real, y’know.”

Frisk’s brow twitched upward. Sans lifted his head a fraction to see them, and huffed out a laugh as he let his head fall back again. “that kinda forgiveness, nobody has that. not after what you’ve been through.”

Frisk snapped their fingers softly to get his attention for their reply. With a groan, he lifted himself slightly, resting back on his elbows. 

[I never said I forgave you,] Frisk signed. Sans’ expression stilled. [I understand - and empathize.] For a moment, Frisk rested their hand on their chest, over the pulse of their heart, and over the far deeper pulse of their core. Then, [We’ve all got our reasons. I’ve made my own decisions that I live with. I’ve got to,] they signed, hard. [I was looking for my own answers. Still am. Along the way, I’ve found more reasons to stay determined,] they continued, their eyes flashing in almost-challenge. 

“i understand the feeling,” Sans replied softly, still staring at Frisk’s hands, now resting in their lap. “i can’t - won’t - let anything happen to…” he cut himself off then, looking away.

Frisk stayed quiet. A minute passed. “... i’m glad you’re learning, at least,” Sans said. His voice barely reached Frisk. Then he turned to look at them to address them outright. “you need to stop letting me win.”

Their expression turned to surprise. They pressed their lips into a thin line, glancing away. Sans snorted and rolled his eyes. 

“yeah, i noticed.”

[I mean, I can’t really remember my decisions,] Frisk replied, gaze shifting back to him.

“yeah, but you remember how you felt.”

Frisk fought the urge to stick their tongue out at him. [I don’t want to hurt you, Sans, no matter how much of a  _ numbskull _ you are.]

“you should,” he said. “You don’t know what-”

[‘-what you’re capable of’?] Frisk signed sardonically. Sans scowled. [Yeah, yeah, mister tough bones. I may not remember fully, but I know you’ve never actually  _ hurt _ me - scared me, knocked me out, sure, but nothing with any lasting damage or malice,] Frisk continued. [ _ You _ don’t intend to hurt  _ me _ , either.]

Sans’ face was still pulled into a scowl as he stared at Frisk, but he stayed silent. Frisk’s wry look twisted triumphantly. He groaned and fell back onto the bed, crossing an arm over his face and closing his eyes.

He felt the human move, but he let them. If they walked away, fine. It wasn’t like they could really get anywhere. He needed to recover for a moment after their ridiculously unwavering determination and belief in his, and whoever’s, better side. He ignored the little feeling of happiness in his soul - and then was interrupted regardless with a sudden punch to his shoulder.

Sans shifted his arm quickly, eye threatening to burst into its blue glow as he stared upward. Above him, though, was Frisk’s face grinning at him as their mop of hair framed their expression. They held one hand lightly in a fist - they hadn’t hit him  _ too _ hard.

[Pretty sure none of your friends would want you to get so stuck in self-loathing that you couldn’t finish what you set out to do,] they signed, eyebrow lifting.

Sans scoffed, one of his brow bones lifting in response. “you think a little too highly of me. pretty sure that there’s no one left who’d be willing to think of me like that anymore,” he said dryly. “not after i came back to…” he gestured vaguely to the lab around them. “science, or whatever,” he finished. His voice was wry, but Frisk caught the bleakness that had slipped in. Frisk tried to accept whatever complicated feelings he had, but they were struggling to not scoff at the same time.

[You’re bad at hiding things,] they replied. Sans sat up, and looked at them in question. They crossed their arms for a moment before continuing, [You still haunt your old favorite bar - diner? - and you’re doing, well, ‘ _ science’ _ to figure out a way to protect someone. Someone in particular, but I’m sure you’ve got others you’re hoping to help at the same time. You’ve gone and exiled yourself here for more than a week with me, trying to figure  _ something _ out, but you can’t even bring yourself to really hurt me,] Frisk said. [Not that I’m complaining about that last part,] they added. They looked Sans dead in the eye. [So tell me. What are you trying to figure out?]

Sans didn’t move for a long time. Frisk was determined, though, and they stayed still too, waiting.

Finally, he sighed. He slipped off the bed, shook his head as the grin returned to his face, met Frisk’s eyes and jerked his head towards a doorway, and walked away towards it. Frisk followed him. They caught the end of a grumble from him- “-can’t pretend to let me figure this shit out, has to be  _ understanding _ -”

Frisk grinned. They could hear the small smile in Sans’ voice.

For at least this round, maybe they could be friends.

After traversing a few hallways, Sans led Frisk into a large room with a pit in the middle, over which hung an enormous machine that looked eerily like an animal skull. Across from it laid a number of screens set up on a makeshift desk with papers and notes strewn across it. Frisk couldn’t help the slight shiver that slipped down their back as they stared at the machine above the pit.

Still, curiosity spiked at them, so they shifted their focus to the desk that Sans approached and quickly followed after him. He frowned at the notes and screens, his hands in his pockets. At his side now, Frisk leaned over to get a better look, their eyes bright and focused.

[You weren’t kidding when you said you were up to some serious science,] they signed after a few seconds. Sans chuckled despite himself.

“dunno about the serious part,” he said, looking away. Frisk shook their head and glanced at him for just a moment, drawing his gaze back to them, the knit of their brows showing clear before they refocused on the notes on the desk.

[No, it is. I’ve never seen such a thorough blend of studies on the interlacing intricacies of magical workings and scientific laws,] they signed. They were too focused on studying Sans’ notes on top of and blended with the writings of at least one or two other scientists to catch the look of pleased surprise on his face.

A minute passed as Sans looked at his own work over Frisk’s shoulder. Eventually, he ventured, “were you a scientist, on the surface?”

It was the first time he had asked about Frisk’s background, Frisk was sure of that. They looked at him. [Not exactly. More of a… scholar,] they explained. [But I studied magic and our histories most of all… and I was really intrigued by the crossover of magic and technical advances. This reminds me of it,] they said, gesturing back at the notes. Tentatively, slowly enough that Sans could stop them if he wanted, they tapped the screens back into life. He let them, and without pushing further Frisk studied the graphs and readings that first appeared.

Sans felt his curiosity getting the best of him. He tried to fight it. He lost. “what can you tell?” he asked. Well, at least he was vague enough that he wouldn’t give anything away.

[You’re trying to manipulate… memory?] They signed slowly.

Sans winced. It didn’t sound quite so good when they put it like that. Slowly, “sort of. moreover- moreover how memory can be… reset,” he said. So much for being vague. Well, if he said too much, he could always put them back in the machine, he thought. The slight stab in his soul at that consideration might have been guilt, but he pushed it down.

Frisk looked back at him. [And you’ve been experimenting on me.] They weren’t looking at him accusatorily, but they weren’t really asking, either.

He nodded.

They nodded once back. They turned to look back at the screens. 

[Your variables are off.]

He started. Out of all the possible things he thought they might sign next, that was not on the list he would have considered. “why would you tell me- wait. what do you mean?” He asked, his voice switching from bewilderment to concern, close to eager.

Without looking back, Frisk briefly pointed at a few figures on the screens, then to a page of notes. [To do this, you’re looking not only at affecting my physical memory, but my magical one, right?] They barely paused, not really waiting for affirmation. Sans nodded anyways, pretenses cast aside as they drifted closer to the notes together. [But humans are made of organic matter. I think monsters are mostly magic… so it seems you’re operating assuming that our core, if magic, uses magic in the same way,] they continued. [But we don’t. Not all humans can even really  _ use  _ magic - but when we do, when we can, we draw  _ externally _ . We can’t use magic on ourselves, or as an extension of ourselves - we use magic on our  _ environment _ . We can harvest it, and manipulate the thread of magic in our surroundings, but it’s not like…] they struggled to find the words, hands trailing off. They looked at Sans, who met their gaze, clearly engrossed. [When you use magic, you use it as an extension of yourself, right?] Their memory of the last week and a half was hazy, but the memory at the beginning, of him teleporting, was sharp… and the recollection of Undyne’s magical spears was still fresh, even weeks - a month? more? - later. [We can’t do that… but we can tap into the magic dormant in our surroundings. We can help plants grow, or build things better and faster, or find ways to convert magic into energy for our technology - but that’s  _ external _ . We don’t draw from a font within ourselves.]

Sans looked stunned, but the look was rapidly thawing as the explanation sunk in. He leaned forward onto the desk. “of course - your bodies are organic, they probably couldn’t put up with that sort of stress,” he said. “so whatever magic you have in you is tied really tightly to your core, to your soul…”

Frisk nodded. [The soul - that’s what you refer to your core source of magical power as being?]

Sans nodded back, the lights in his eyes flicking over to his notes. “yeah. our bodies are manifestations of our souls, giving us a physical form - but it’s more like solid magic,” he explained. “our souls produce magic, which manifests itself as our physical appearance, and we can manipulate and draw from the excess according to whatever our affinity is.”

[Which is why different monsters have different magic attacks and powers,] Frisk said. Sans shot them a grin.

“you’re a quick study,” he said. Frisk grinned back.

[You too,] they returned. Both focused back on the research and readings in front of them. A few minutes passed like this, with Sans or Frisk occasionally shifting a paper to get a better look at something. 

Eventually, Sans straightened up. He stepped back, and before Frisk could say anything, he said, “be right back,” and disappeared. Frisk felt the pulse of magical energy, and something tickled their shoulders. A few seconds passed, and the brush of a feeling returned - then Sans was back in front of them, extending a popsicle towards them. Frisk jumped slightly at his reappearance, and then hesitated. 

Understanding, Sans displayed the second popsicle he had in his other hand, and then popped it into his mouth.

Frisk took the other one with a grin.

They glanced back at the desk, then moved around it. Carefully, they sat at the edge of the pit, dangling their legs into the dark abyss as nonchalantly as they could. After a moment, Sans joined them.

Frisk stared at the machine as they ate their popsicle. A smile pulled at their face, even in the face of the eerie thing - the popsicle stick had the words ‘ _ You’re super spiffy! _ ’ scrawled on the handle. They ignored the impulse to stare at Sans to figure out how he ate.

“i dunno if i can put you in there again without you fighting back,” Sans said.

Frisk didn’t reply, opting to look at him instead. He sighed, staring at the machine in front of them.

“it’s a lot easier to experiment on someone when they’re not trying their damnedest to make you their friend,” he said wryly, looking back at them with one eye closed.

Frisk snickered. They popped the ice cream in their mouth. [Well I’ll be out of here soon enough,] they signed quickly, pulling the popsicle back out before they could get brainfreeze. They were feeling considerably better already thanks to the snack, though, and were safe. Contentedly refocusing on their ice cream, they ignored addressing Sans’ mention of the inevitable break in peace. 

Both of them knew it was coming… but Frisk preferred to focus on this amiable moment instead. They had a feeling that Sans did, too.

“you sound confident,” Sans replied.

Frisk laughed silently. [I’ve only known Undyne for a few weeks, but… I’m pretty sure she’s not the type to ignore someone kidnapping her friend,] Frisk signed around their ice cream. Their core - their soul - warmed a little at calling Undyne their friend. They knew they were right, though.

Sans snorted. “yeah, you’re not wrong there.”

[You won’t ‘win’ in the long run, anyways,] Frisk signed.

Sans’ brow bone shifted upward in question. “you think i couldn’t keep you here?”

Frisk rolled their eyes. [You could,] they replied. [But you won’t. And either way, I’m not giving up. I’ve got my own answers to find, and my own people to protect. Giving you that help,] they gestured to the desk behind them, [actually helped me too. Learning about monsters, and monster magic, and souls… that’s good info on a lot of levels,] they continued honestly. Thoughts of Alphys, Undyne, Toriel, the rebels they had begun to grow so close to - even the villagers of Snowdin, even Papyrus - Frisk couldn’t leave them in this state. They wouldn’t. The monsters didn’t deserve to be trapped under Ebott. They didn’t deserve whatever horrifying things had been looping for 15 years, or even whatever had come before. Frisk was going to help, somehow.

Sans watched the fierce look of protectiveness and love grow on Frisk’s face. The determination in their soul sparked something in his own. He smiled genuinely for just a moment and looked towards the machine. The expression felt strange on his features, and it slipped back to his usual lazy grin.

“i think i might just be rootin’ for you… Frisk,” he said.

Frisk stared at him, a smile growing on their own face. They finished the last of their ice cream, and left the stick resting in their mouth. They snapped softly to get his attention again. He looked back at them, curiosity on his face again, his own popsicle stick hanging out of his mouth.

[Someday… I hope we’ll be fighting to protect the same thing,] they said. [Together, as a team. All of us.]

Sans’ eyes widened. Frisk smiled at him, their expression full of determination and comfortable anticipation. They looked back at the machine. Sans kept staring at them.

Something in their expression… he felt like their words were more than a distant possibility. Their words weren’t just an expression of an optimistic daydream. 

They were a confident certainty.

\----------

_ Flickering images and feelings poured through them, only the shadowy afterimages reaching their closed eyelids, the brightest of them instead coursing through the pained spark in their core - in their soul. Feeling crashed over them. Urgency, hope, worry, love, pain, determination…  _

Frisk’s chest spasmed as they took a ragged breath and opened their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /////////OTL////////////////////////
> 
> So, this chapter is over 7,400 words... I had almost split it up, but I couldn't do that with everything that happens and feel good about it - so to make up for the wait, you get _a whole lot of back story at once_. Had to edit a lot to make things fit and make sure I had all the right details in there. I hope you like it!
> 
> This'll probably be the last flashback (or series thereof) for a while yet. A bunch came out in this chapter about magic and some of the 'runs' Frisk had with Sans. For reference, the last Sans memory was of one shortly before Frisk was rescued. Their information helped him improve the machine's effect almost exponentially... And with the rush of triggered memories, Frisk now will remember what Sans told them about monsters and souls. Hmmmm.
> 
> Sidenote: ugh. I love Frisk's mom. Too powerful, too fierce, too absolutely everything. Gonna go cry for a bit. T3T You'll find out more on her later in the story...
> 
> Okay, so, as usual! Thank you _so much_ for all your support - I read every comment probably at least 20 times minimum, and I get so fired up and emotional every time. Please keep leaving them! I love to hear your thoughts, and if you have any questions about magic in this AU I'd love to elaborate on what I can! (I wonder if I should give a particular name to this AU... huh. Food for thought?) You can ask about whatever you'd like in the comments or even better head on over to _askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com_ and address them to either to me or to one of the Undertale characters that we've seen so far :)


	12. Anomaly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Frisk didn’t have a chance to ask before Alphys focused forward and lit up the runes with her magic. Less than a moment passed before something in the darkness moved. Frisk couldn’t tear their eyes away, watching as the darkness became darker and started to pull, twist, roll, drip - every hair on their body felt like it stood on end and their heart felt like it was too small for their chest. Alphys turned her head slightly, trying not to stare, but Frisk was being pulled drawn, and everything suddenly shifted. Something bright and red pulled itself out of their chest, it’s shape a little cartoon heart, and Frisk’s chest felt empty and tight and wrong as they stared at the thing, and Alphys glanced at them and her eyes went wide._
> 
> _And then, out of the darkness came something solid, something that wore the darkness like its own body._

Painful, beautiful air filled Frisk’s chest as they inhaled sharply and deeply. Their body ached as though covered in bruises.

As awareness settled in their whirling mind, they realized they weren’t laying on the ground - rather, they were being cradled in somebody’s hold. Their eyes focused and they stared at the grim screen that was Mettaton’s face.

“F-Frisk…?” 

With concerted effort, Frisk lifted their head and saw Alphys peering over their legs at Mettaton’s other side. She was wet, covered in dirt and grit, and was eerily lit by a bluish-purple glow. Frisk’s eyes shifted upwards, and they realized that the glow was coming from beautiful crystals scattered above them on the low, rocky ceiling. Their senses started to register the rest of their surroundings at the same time - the cool, damp smell of marsh grasses, the sharp taste of minerals mingling with mist, the damp chill of the air…

[Where are we?] Frisk managed. Waterfall, clearly, but…

“S-safe. For now,” Alphys answered as she studied Frisk’s face. Hers was lined with exhaustion, frustration… she turned away then and began walking forward once more. Her feet splashed softly in the shallow waterway. Frisk twitched in surprise as Mettaton began rolling forward, still carrying them as he followed Alphys.

[What… what happened?] Frisk managed to ask, but Mettaton simply rolled forward, and Alphys wasn’t looking. Frisk scowled.

Their mind was a jumble - they tried to focus on sorting out their memories, their dreams - those moments down in the lab with Sans, they could recall them clearly still, they realized with relief. The moments with their mother… they wouldn’t have forgotten those anytime soon. Dreams with those memories were regular enough. Frisk pushed those aside, remembering the conversation they had been having back at Mettaton’s house, with Alphys and Undyne.

Undyne. The vines. Alphys, about to -

Frisk lurched as the recollection hit them. Mettaton made a startled, annoyed whir of beeps as he held them closer to keep from dropping them. Frisk’s side shot with pain at their movement and they hissed in a breath as they stilled, nausea and pain rolling through them. After it subsided slightly, they waved at Mettaton and tried to sign his attention.

“Alphys, darling, a little help?” He said, looking down at Frisk’s flashing hands and frustrated, worried face.

She turned back and caught Frisk’s eye. [Down, please-] she caught them signing. She shook her head.

“Frisk, you were hurt b-badly - you can’t walk right n-now, we have to get to safety,” she said, hands clenching. She kept walking even as she glanced back over her shoulder. Frisk’s own hands clenched tightly as she turned her gaze back forward. Their knuckles turned white, pain and confusion and anger tumbling through them.

“She’s right, you know,” Mettaton sighed after a moment. His screen appeared to watch them. “You saved her life, and took a nasty hit for it. We weren’t sure if…” he trailed off. Frisk’s gaze dropped from him to their side. There was a blood-stained hole in their sweater, and they could just see some sort of bloody cloth bandage below it. Gingerly, they rested a hand over the area - it throbbed sharply, but not as harshly as Frisk realized it should have for having recently had a vine pierce through it.

“I-I had some food with me in my pack, and a couple supplies weren’t ruined when we ran away,” Alphys said. Frisk looked up and caught her gaze resting briefly on them again. She turned forward once more. “N-not as much as you need, but enough that you made it.”

A grim numbness washed through Frisk. Their hand rested still over their wound - it was big, they could tell. At least as large as their palm. If it wasn’t for the apparent magic of monster food and whatever bandaging Alphys and Mettaton had done, they wouldn’t have woken up. They wouldn’t have lived. The thought settled like a pit in their gut.

A few minutes passed as Alphys led the way, the soft splashing of the water and the occasional squelch of shifting water plant life around them the only sounds that accompanied them through the dimly lit waterway. Frisk stayed quiet and still. Distantly, they registered that Mettaton was moving in a way that prevented them from being jostled too much - he avoided the small pits that Alphys had to work through, and held them close enough that they were pressed against the oddly warm metallic front of his body. They let themself appreciate the warmth fighting the chill they didn’t have the strength to fend off normally.

The trio passed through a series of rooms, Alphys seeming to carefully choose back paths, only using as much light as was necessary. Frisk’s eyes went wide when she first touched a mushroom and it lit up with a squeak, casting enough of a glow to allow them to navigate the winding marsh. This happened several times, and brought a strange sense of eerie calm to Frisk. 

Finally, they came upon solid ground. Alphys stepped onto the path and shook herself off, little water droplets hitting the ground like rain. Water dripped from her coat, and she wrung it out with a frown. Red rimmed her eyes. 

Mettaton rolled onto the firm path as well and Frisk heard the soft rush of air and a bloom of heat below them as he blew his leg dry. Alphys looked at him with an eyebrow raised and he simply rolled past her, Frisk still cradled in his arms. 

Alphys padded quickly after them, catching up and stepping in front of Mettaton. She glanced over her shoulder as they passed through a dark portion of the cavern. Frisk felt the tension in the air, and their own face was settled grimly as they tried to stay alert.

Suddenly, Alphys stopped. Mettaton pulled up next to her and turned to face the wall that had been on their left, behind Frisk’s head. They now saw what Alphys was reaching for - a simple grey door. She slipped it open, gestured for Mettaton to go in first, and quickly followed after.

The room they entered put Frisk’s hair on end.

It was washed out, like someone had sucked the saturation of color out of the stone and crystals. Frisk could tell the room mirrored the environment outside, but the crystals were nearly white with a pulsing blackness at their core, and the stone was a dusty white, shadowed in soft charcoal. The only darkness was at the edges of the room where the walls should have been - or what Frisk thought might be the edges. It was darker than dark, a black that hurt to look at. Frisk closed their eyes, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“Don’t look at the walls,” Alphys said softly, her oddly steady voice moving deeper into the room. Frisk nodded and opened their eyes again, focusing on Alphys instead of the room. It hurt less to do so.

[Where are we?] Frisk asked, once again. Mettaton rolled closer to Alphys, who now stood in the center of the room. 

“A place that only m-mostly exists,” she replied. She lifted her glasses with one clawed hand and rubbed at her snout, her eyes pinching shut. “W-we can rest here, at least for a bit…”

Frisk frowned but accepted the answer for now. They looked up at Mettaton, catching his attention, then pointed down. He hesitated, seeming to look to Alphys for a moment, but acquiesced and set them down on the ground with a sigh. Alphys replaced her glasses on her nose and sat down next to Frisk. Her gaze shot warily over to them, as if concerned that they were about to shoot up and overexert themselves, but Frisk simply shook their head with a tired twitch of a smile. If they were safe for now, they’d take advantage of it.

A moment passed, then Frisk signed, [Alphys, where’s Undyne?]

Alphys tensed. She wouldn’t meet Frisk’s gaze, but kept her eyes on Frisk’s hands. Dread hit Frisk, the dread that they knew they had only been staving off since waking. 

[What happened?] Frisk asked once more, signing sharply. Alphys stayed silent, her mouth opening slightly, then closing again.

“You took the blow for Alphys and managed to blast the vine away. Undyne was able to gain the upperhand for a moment because of it - she told us to grab you and run. I had to pull Alphys with me, but we made it out the door,” Mettaton cut in. His voice was matter-of-fact, but he wasn’t looking towards either of the two on the ground. “We made a run for it while the vines were preoccupied.”

Frisk stared at Mettaton, then at Alphys. [And Undyne..?] They signed, small. 

“We heard… we heard the house crumble about a minute later,” Mettaton said. “It echoed through the caverns.”

Alphys was looking away now. She was shaking, her hands gripping one another. Frisk’s jaw clenched. 

[We have to go back for her.]

Frisk’s face was grim as their mind raced. They would need at least a little more time to recover, but they couldn’t wait too long - if she was hurt, or captured, they wouldn’t have much time-

“No,” Alphys said. Her voice wavered a fraction. She didn’t look up.

Frisk stared at her, their mouth hanging open slightly. Their eyebrows pulled down, furrowing as anger bubbled in their chest.

[What do you mean, ‘no’? We can’t just leave her! There’s still time, we could-]

Alphys shook her head, her eyes hidden behind the glare on her glasses from the strange light the crystals threw off. “We can’t,” she said, short.

[Alphys, I know you’re worried, but we can do this, we just have to-]

She lifted her head at last, whip-quick, hands clenched into fists. “I’m not risking her sacrifice to keep us safe, her sacrifice to keep your soul away from those- those things! I  _ want  _ to- I w-want to…” a choked noise from her throat cut her off, and one hand went to her mouth while the other remained a fist, grasping at the wet fabric of her coat. Frisk’s breath was caught in their chest. Mettaton still faced away.

In the distance, Frisk heard the dull rush of a waterfall. It sounded strangely empty in this room. 

Slowly, fighting the dull ache in their side, Frisk drew closer to Alphys. Alphys’ arm twitched, but she didn’t move away. Once they were so close that Frisk could have reached out and touched her cheek without leaning, they stopped. 

[I’m sorry.]

Alphys watched their hands, even once they went still. Finally, she drew in a shaky breath.

“No, it’s… I understand. Y-you just want to help.” She lifted her head at last. There was a small path of wetness trailing from one eye down her cheek.

[That doesn’t make it okay, though,] Frisk admitted with a grimace. [You’ve been leading a rebellion for- well, long enough. And you’re smart. I should have put it together faster that of course you had a reason, that you must have been aware that something might…] They trailed off, looking away.

“S-still. I didn’t mean to s-snap,” she responded quietly. Frisk gently lifted a hand and rested it on Alphys’ shoulder. They squeezed lightly, trying to communicate the mess of feelings and empathy they were feeling. Alphys was flushed, but she looked grateful.

“Darlings, I hate to interrupt, but I need my beauty sleep.”

Frisk and Alphys looked up at the square robot standing above them. Frisk was slightly incredulous, but amusement pulled at their expression in the face of their disbelief. Alphys sighed and nodded. Mettaton rolled grandly away to the side of the room then lowered himself to the ground, his single stand and wheel retreating into his body until he rested fully on the washed-out ground. Alphys padded over to him, opened up a panel on the side of his body, and pulled out what looked like a small, translucent satellite dish.

“You really are l-low…” she murmured. He hummed a sardonic-sounding tone. She rolled her eyes. “J-just for a little while,” Alphys said to him. He waved her off, the movement laced with flair. 

“Of course, of course. Goodnight you two,” he replied. With that his screen went dark. Alphys positioned the dish, then stepped back. A few moments passed and it lit up with a gentle pink glow. With a nod, Alphys returned to sit by Frisk. She caught Frisk’s intrigued gaze, recognizing the discerning and curious expression on their face. “He usually p-plugs in to charge, but I built him an emergency option - he can recharge by using the dish to draw magic from the s-surrounding environment. It’s s-slow, but it works,” she explained with a tired smile.

Frisk looked at her with fascination, intellectual excitement brimming despite their own exhaustion. [Mettaton’s body runs off of magic that he can intake through the air?] 

Alphys looked at Frisk in amusement. “W-well, yeah. I mean i-it’s magic just…  _ around,  _ not necessarily in the air, but yeah. What else w-would he run off of?”

The technology was so like what humans made for their tech, but so much more advanced. Mettaton could actually effectively get  _ his own _ magic - Frisk had never seen anything like that before. They didn’t know where to begin.

While they were lost in thought, Alphys stood back up and padded over towards the door. She pulled out a few small objects from an inner pocket of her coat and placed them near the door. She then held out her hand towards them. They took on a soft yellow glow as she worked her magic, and the room felt… safer.

Alphys came back over, a few of the objects still in her hands. Frisk peered at them. 

[What are those?]

Alphys sat down and grinned shyly. “W-well, they’re kinda… shields, I guess,” she said. She held one out for Frisk to see.

Frisk inhaled sharply. Alphys looked at them in surprise, then glanced down curiously at what she held in her hand. It was a small metal disc, patterns of circuitry set within it, the broader lines forming into two symbols. Alphys looked back up at Frisk. “W-what is it?”

A moment passed as Frisk’s mind raced. [Do you… do you know the Deltian Runes?] Frisk signed urgently. They gazed intently at her face, leaning forward, pain all but forgotten for just a moment.

Alphys’ face contorted in confusion. She shook her head, seeing how seriously Frisk was regarding her. A moment passed, and Frisk’s posture relaxed. They shifted backward, wincing slightly. Alphys was clearly waiting for an explanation, so Frisk tried to position themselves comfortably once more.

[You know how I use magic, right?] They started.

Alphys nodded, looking slightly unsure even so. “Humans d-don’t use magic like monsters… but it seems like you can pull at it from what’s in your s-surroundings from what I’ve seen,” she ventured.

Frisk nodded. Undyne didn’t ask many questions when they had trained together for those few weeks, outside of trying to see if Frisk could summon a weapon, but Frisk knew that Alphys had probably been more curious. [Pretty much. We can tap into dormant magic in our surroundings - we can’t use it as an extension of ourselves, but we can do things like help plants grow and find ways to harvest it to power technology, or build things better and faster… that sort of thing,] they elaborated, echoing the words they had spoken to Sans. They pushed the memory aside for the moment. [Well, I studied a lot of manuscripts and histories of humans and monsters alike - what I could find anyways. There aren’t a lot of remaining accounts of monsters,] they signed darkly. Alphys stayed quiet.

Frisk’s mind drifted for a moment, but they shook it off. [So, back when monsters were on the surface, there were accounts of something called the Deltian Runes. Long story short, they can channel magic,] they explained. They were leaving a lot out, but for the moment it could wait. [I’ve been able to use those when I’m working more seriously to help me manipulate that environmental magic. They’re… powerful, to say the least.]

“I f-found these buried deep in the notes of one of the former Royal Scientists,” Alphys said, slowly. “I couldn’t figure out what they meant - he didn’t leave behind a translation, so I j-just… experimented,” she admitted. Frisk’s eyes widened. Alphys grimaced. “I’m guessing y-you have a better idea of what they mean - because yeah, s-some of the experiments d-didn’t go very well…” she said. She looked away. Frisk was horrified - the runes were beyond potent, and if combined in the wrong ways, and by a monster using their magic… “B-but! There were a few that worked really well,” Alphys picked up again brightly, trying to recover. “L-like these ones. They’re k-kinda like a protection spell, almost - they s-seem to keep you from being noticed by anyone who means to do you harm, s-so they work well as a safe shield.”

Frisk looked back down at the disc that Alphys now cradled in her lap. They shook their head - relieved that Alphys at least hadn’t stumbled upon anything that would have done her  _ lasting  _ damage.

“C-can you read them…?” Alphys asked, pulling Frisk from their thoughts again. 

Frisk nodded. [It’s hard to explain, because there’s a certain meaning that has to be put on them when they’re being written, but you actually seemed to have mimicked it well,] Frisk said, impressed. Alphys flushed at the compliment. Frisk stared at the runes a little longer, then back at Alphys. [These two essentially translate to “Integrity” and “Impact.”]

Alphys’ gaze moved from Frisk’s hands to the runes, a scientific sort of eagerness on her features. “How does that t-translate to a shielding spell, though?”

Frisk’s face pulled. [Intent has a lot to do with it,] they explained. They weren’t sure if they should get too into the complicated nature of the runes that they themselves used. They trusted Alphys, and even still - the runes themselves were something to be wary of, should they be used by the wrong entity.

Alphys barely registered Frisk’s signs. “Intent, h-huh… well, the runes  _ were _ near his research on souls, so maybe…”

Frisk got her attention as they realized what she meant. [Wait, a former Royal Scientist was doing research on souls?] They signed.

Alphys nodded, her mind still clearly rolling over the runes. “He was brilliant - a l-little too brilliant, really. His notes w-were hard to decipher,” she explained. “He’s the one who b-built the Core, actually.”

Recognition pulled at Frisk. [Where the Lab is, you mean?]

“Y-yeah. Sorry,” she added, eyes refocusing more clearly onto Frisk, worried that she had upset them. 

Frisk smiled at that and waved off her worry. [No, it’s okay - I actually recovered a lot of the key memories to my time down there with Sans, and it wasn’t - well, it wasn’t terrible, mostly,] they explained. Noting the surprised look on Alphys’ face, they realized that they probably should have brought that up sooner.

“R-really? What - what do you remember?” Alphys asked. She was clearly trying to be considerate, but was clearly fighting her brimming curiousity. 

So Frisk explained, going into the the core memories they had been able to pull back through their dreams. How there had been rounds where they had fought, though Frisk couldn’t remember all of these - but as they had explained before, Sans never actually truly  _ hurt _ them. And then there were the rounds where they didn’t fight, like the foggy one, where his experimental reset on them hadn’t worked quite right and they simply knew that they didn’t want to fight. And then the run where Frisk had gotten the idea to leave traces of their touch on magic around the lab, which had made it harder for him to find them until they tired out too much. Most importantly, perhaps, was when they had more clearly than ever been something akin to friends, or were at least friendly - and they had talked about fighting, and Sans had let slip that he was protecting someone as Frisk had already suspected, and going to the machine and the variables being off-

“W-wait, so you  _ told him _ how to f-fix it so he could better mess with your m-memory?!” Alphys interjected.

Frisk grimaced. [Well, yes, but-]

Alphys rolled her eyes. “O-okay, Frisk, do I r-really need to have a talk with you about not telling s-strange monsters how to better k-keep you kidnapped-”

[C’mon, it wasn’t like that-]

“Y-yeah, it was!”

Frisk pushed at Alphys jokingly. [Are you gonna let me finish?]

Alphys waved them on, shaking her head at Frisk. 

[Anyways… I told him that he wasn’t going to win, anyways, that you and Undyne were coming for me-]

Alphys pressed her small hands to her snout and flushed again. “A-awwww, did you r-really?” A moment passed, then she laughed. “O-oh god, I kind of wish I had seen h-his face when you said that!”

Frisk nodded, grinning. [Yeah, he was a little pissed. But he had already given me the Nice Cream so I got what I needed,] they signed, grinning playfully.

“H-he gave you Nice Cream?” Alphys pressed a hand to her brow in confusion, holding out a hand towards Frisk in a  _ stop _ gesture. 

Frisk shrugged with a grin. [It’s complicated?]

“C-clearly,” Alphys grumbled, eyeing Frisk. 

[He gave me a lot of info about souls and monster magic, though, and I think he was almost… teaching me about magic use down there, too,] Frisk continued more seriously. [It was weird. I really don’t think he was experimenting… maliciously, I guess. He was really reluctant,] they recalled. [I mean, he still kidnapped me and experimented on me, but I think he didn’t exactly want to. Not like that. I think he broke down a lot towards the end, too - like we had a few rounds towards the beginning where we mostly talked with only a little fighting, and then his resets got a little more thorough so I was confused and we just fought… but it wasn’t working well enough over time and I knew somewhere deep in me that I didn’t want to fight. Once we had talked science and magic and everything, that time with the Nice Cream, I think he got the variables in line - so from then on, each round, I barely remembered anything. And then I overreached because I couldn’t figure things out…]

“And that’s the t-time you died,” Alphys finished softly. Frisk nodded.

[And he really didn’t want to do it anymore after that. He barely kept up the pretense for two minutes after I got up.]

Alphys regarded Frisk, clearly thinking deeply. Frisk let her, ruminating over everything that had happened. There were so many puzzles down here. So many of the pieces were coming out, but they weren’t yet connecting…

“There’s a lot that d-doesn’t quite make sense,” Alphys muttered. She glanced at Frisk, whose face mirrored the frustration in her own thoughts. Both of them huffed out a tired laugh.

[I wish we could get answers,] Frisk signed, their annoyance still clear on their face, even if it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.

Alphys was quiet for a few moments. “M-maybe we could,” she said. Frisk looked up at her, surprised. Alphys grimaced, staring into the distance. “It m-may not work, we may walk away m-more confused…”

Frisk sat up straighter, as much as they could. [But…?]

Alphys looked back at Frisk. “But it’s worth a shot, I think,” she said, clearly having settled on her decision. Frisk nodded, determination fueling them once more.

[What do we do?]

“W-well, I’ve actually got a few more runes that I was able to get to work,” Alphys began, standing up and walking just a little further into the room, stopping slightly shy of the painfully dark shadows. “And this is the perfect p-place to use them, actually,” she said dryly. Frisk looked at her inquisitively, but her back was turned. They settled on watching her instead as she drew several runes in the dirt. Frisk’s eyes widened once more, the combination of runes lacing a chill through their veins.

Alphys was finished by the time she noticed Frisk snapping to get her attention. She noted the look on Frisk’s face as they stared at the runes and made a face. “Y-yeah, I have a feeling that these don’t imply anything good,” she said. “B-but it’ll be alright. Probably.”

Frisk’s brow shot up in concern, but Alphys turned towards the runes again, taking a careful step back. She took a deep breath, and Frisk scooted back slightly, trying to steel themselves for whatever was about to happen.

“Oh, b-by the way,” Alphys added, looking back over her shoulder and catching Frisk’s eyes. “Whatever you d-do, try not to stare t-too hard.”

Frisk didn’t have a chance to ask before Alphys focused forward and lit up the runes with her magic. Less than a moment passed before something in the darkness  _ moved _ . Frisk couldn’t tear their eyes away, watching as the darkness became darker and started to pull, twist, roll, drip - every hair on their body felt like it stood on end and their heart felt like it was too small for their chest. Alphys turned her head slightly, trying not to stare, but Frisk was being pulled drawn, and everything suddenly  _ shifted _ . Something bright and red pulled itself out of their chest, it’s shape a little cartoon heart, and Frisk’s chest felt empty and tight and  _ wrong _ as they stared at the thing, and Alphys glanced at them and her eyes went wide.

And then, out of the darkness came something solid, something that wore the darkness like its own body. 

Out of the darkness came something, something with a colorless face almost like a skull, a crack of shadows trailing above a drooping right eye socket and another slipping below the open socket of his left. A gaping slit of darkness formed what seemed to be a smile on the skull. Two vague hands made of something that might have been bone drifted alongside him, two holes slicing through the palm of each. Alphys stepped back, in line with Frisk now, her gaze flashing between Frisk and the figure that was pooling out of the darkness, and she held out an arm in front of Frisk, in front of Frisk’s soul - because that’s what it was, Frisk realized, that little pulsing heart was their very  _ soul _ .

She breathed in as the figure approached. “Frisk… meet Dr. W.D. Gaster.”

Frisk stared as a light flickered on in Gaster’s left eye socket. He stopped in front of them. The darkness oozed from his body, forming it and giving him a loose shape only accented by a trailing inverted triangle of white that appeared to have been something akin to a sweater. 

He looked down at them. Frisk looked back up at him. They swallowed, determination pulling them out of it. He stared at their soul. With a shudder, Frisk reached out to their soul, breathed in deeply, and  _ willed _ it to come back, willed it to return to its proper place, away from the darkness, away from any fight, they didn’t want to fight, they had no desire, no intent to do so. Slowly, stuttering, it slipped back into them. They released the breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding, and their gaze moved back up to Gaster. He met their gaze.

[Hello,] they ventured. It was a start.

Gaster’s eye flicked to their hands. His smile pulled, terrifying and eerily genuine. 

[I̕t is͟ ̡nice̸ ̵t̸o f͞i͡n͢a͞l͏lý me̷e̶t̶ ̶you,͝ F҉ri̕s̡k̡,] he signed back.

Frisk shook their head, their vision swimming slightly. They could read his signs, and an excitement swelled in them - but it was like reality itself was pulling around him, and their head throbbed…

[T̛r̵y͢ nǫt҉ ͏t͜o̕ ̢see̕ ͠t̸hem҉ q͜ui̵te ͢s̵o  _ ͝li͡tera͠l̷l̶y _ ,̵] he advised. Frisk glanced at his face, and saw what might have been a distant echo of a laugh shake his shoulders. [I͟t ̀w̧i̷l̨l͞ ̶a̶t̷ leàs̕t ̕p̵r̀ev́ȩņt the͠ hea̶d̡ache.]

He was right, Frisk realized, the surprise showing clear on their face. They missed the amused understanding flick over the nervous expression Alphys wore. If they relaxed a little and almost looked more at the meaning  _ behind _ his signs, they could still see them move and form and could understand what he was signing. It felt weird and almost like white noise in their mind, but at least it didn’t  _ hurt _ .

[It’s nice to meet you too, Dr. Gaster,] they signed carefully. [I believe I may have heard the end of a conversation you had with Alphys and Undyne in the forest - well, weeks ago now,] they continued with an apologetic grin.

[A͠h́ yes, no͡t ̕lo҉ng ͝af͞ter y̸o͡u͢ ͝h̶ad̶ ̸b͝ee͝n ͞k͏ille̕d t͟hos͏ę sevèr͢al҉ times͏ by̛ ̨th͟e̶ f̕o͡rm̕er ͡Ca̴p͝t͢ain͘,] he mused. Frisk started at this, glancing at Alphys and seeing the surprise on her face - it was lesser, and faded quickly in wry understanding, but it was there. Before Frisk could ask, he continued, [I̵ ̷u͏ndęrs͢tan͠d a̧ ͠lot of͏ t͞ḩi͏ng̨s̢ móśt ̴d̨o̶ ̡nót,͘ F͞ri̵s̴k. ̵An҉d plea̴s̴e, s͞i͢m̵p̢l͟y Gas͜ter ͢i͝s̴ ̸f͘i̡ne͏.͡ ̢I̸ h̨av̡e̛ n̕ot be̸e̴n t͘he͟ R͜oy͡al̡ S̴cientist f̶or ͡a lon͏g time.]

Frisk’s head turned quickly to Alphys, who glanced back down at them with a guilty grin. “Y-yeah, this is  _ that _ scientist,” she confirmed. “B-but it was only a year ago that - oh, w-wait. If you are unaffected b-by the resets, then it really  _ does  _ feel like the actual 15 years for you…” she said then, addressing Gaster.

[Sơm͘èth̢in͟g ĺik͘e ̨t̨h͡at́,͢] he confirmed.

[Wait, wait,] Frisk signed. Both Gaster and Alphys focused on them. [You’re unaffected by the resets?]

The eerie split of a shadow-smile spread on Gaster’s face once again. He spread his hands apart - they didn’t appear to be attached to his body in any way - and swept into a genteel bow. He lifted his head to Frisk, now substantially closer to them. He rose once more without breaking eye contact.

[Pr͠ecisely,̕ m̕y͏ de̷ár. I a͢m the͡ fo͜r̢me̷r ͜R̢ǫya͘l ͢S̷ci͢ęnti͟s҉t, ҉a͢n̨d ̨Į ex̡p͟e͜r̀im͘en̵t̡ed̀ ͢pe̸ŗh͞ąps̢ a ͜l̨i͜tt͟lé too̧ ̀v͝igor̴ou͢s̴l͡y͏... ͠My şo͏ul͡ ͢s҉h̛a͏t͡te҉re͡d̸,͞ a̸nd҉ ̧i̵n͘ a fit of ̶te̡rri̴ble in̡sp̛ir̶at̛i͠on ͢I̧ wa̸s͢ ̨a͞b̷l͡e ͠to̶ ́s̵a̧ve ͡myself̕.] The darkness writhed deep within him, and Frisk could do little but wait for him to continue. [Th̡e̢ ̷v͏o̡i̶d̴ ́bet̨w̸een wórlds ̵i̸s͝ a ҉dąrk̵ place͏, dar͜k͞ȩr̷ ͘t̷h͏a̡n a̶n͢yth̛ing.̸ ̸And̀ ̀it ͢i̶s͝ ͡there͘ ͟t̢hat ̕I͞ n̸o̧w exis̵t͜,͢ o̵nly te̵nu͏o̶usl͜y͡ kee̛ping͞ ͟á ͟ho̢l̵d҉ ̨on ̸th͡is wo̵r̸l̡d, ̡my̵ ̴f҉or͠m̸e͡r w͠o҉rld,̢ ̸r͜ealit̨y̕ so̵ sw͜e̵et.͟]

It was hard to understand him, but dread sunk in as Frisk realized the implications. Alphys was still, so still at their side, as if she were unable to even breathe. Gaster looked Frisk in the eyes, holding them frozen there as his hands met and shifted in signs, strange after-images slipping behind his movements. [I͝ ḩa͏ve͠ w͞atch̵e͞d͘ th̡is͠ ͝r̵e҉alit҉y̵ ͏l͝iv҉e ̵an͠d ͏d́i͘e͠ ̧an̸d͜ rìp a͢n͜d͏ live ̸ag͠a͝in a͞nd͠ ͟a̡gain ̀àn̷d ag̸àin f̧ơr 15̶ y͞ear͡s, rem͟embe̸r͞ing ev̶er͟ý toŕn͘ ͝an͜d̶ ̢b̸r̀okeń mom̀ént͟ ̷aś t͘he̛ w̕or̷l͠d̷ w͡as͝ ̢shat͜te̵r͡ed an̢d re͢b͏ór̵n aga̶i͠n̕ i̢n͜ a t͢wi͝s͟t҉ed ̢t̡est of͢ th̸e ҉stre͜nģt͟h̛ o͠f t̛he ͜l̢a̸ws̴ of̶ t͏h͞e͏ u͠ni̷v̡e҉r͠s̨e҉ i͠t̷self.]

Nothing else moved, nothing at all, as Frisk stared at the meaning behind the broken monster’s shifting hands.

[An̸d no͝w, s͠o͝m͝ethińg̶ ͞h͞a̷s̨ c̕ha͘n͜gȩd͡. Someth͟in̵g ͡ha͡s͠ ͏shi̢f̡t̢ed, ̛t̸r̶ųl͜y͘ sh͏if̢te͠d̶... ̷B̨ec̴ąus҉e,̧ ͢m͝y ͝d͞ea̛r͠, ҉yo҉u̕ ̕ar͟e he̛re. ̀Şo tèl̴l̴ ̴m̛e͟..̴.͝]

Nothing existed, nothing but Frisk’s gaze trapped by Gaster’s.

[What  _ ͜are̵  _ ̧yóu̴ ͠d̵o͡ing here̷,̧ l͘i͡ttle ̨an̨om̧a͡l͟y͢?]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gives you all more questions than answers, probably*
> 
> Ahhhh Gaster & the first proper appearance of Frisk's soul and runes... A whole lot happened in this chapter, and so much has been set into motion. Let me know what you all think :)
> 
> In other news, I have an official title for this AU! I debated about it for a long time, but I figured that honestly with the Undertale fandom the way it is and with enough defining characteristics, it made sense. And so, officially, welcome to the fanfic for the **TakeoverTale AU**. I posted some thoughts about it on the _askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com_ blog, as well as the rough design sketches I did for Frisk, Undyne, Alphys, and Sans! We've got a whole new lovely character available for questioning, too, so head on over there for a look at all that and to ask some questions if you're interested!~
> 
> Thank you as always for your kind words & fantastic comments! You really do all give me the determination to keep writing <3


	13. Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _[Tr̶ưly̕, a҉ p͞u̢r̵śu͘it͏ ̷for ͘the ͝mad͟ ̵at̴ ̧h͢e͡art͞,] he signed. Then his expression twisted in what could only be described as the smile of someone who had seen things no one should ever be able to see. [I ̶w̕ould k̨n̕ow̷. Qu̸est҉i͞o̸nś begęt ̶quęsti͠o͘n̶s, aņsw̢e͞rs b̵e͠ dam͝ned̷ -͡ ̡t̕h̡e̢ mo͟r͢e͏ y͡ou ͏k͡n͡o͝w̵, ̕t̢he͢ ͞d̨eeṕer ýou̵ ͜fall ͘in̶t͏o͡ ̧t͜h̵è ̸a̵wa̡ren̡e͡s̢ş o̢f ͢yo͝ur o̶w͘n ut̨t̢e͜r҉ ̵i͡nco͡m̛p͝r̛eh͢ens͢įon.]_

_ Anomaly. _

The word rang disjointed through Frisk’s head, echoing the words that Gaster had just signed to them. Their heart stilled and beat agonizingly slow.

[What do you mean by anomaly…?] They finally signed.

The former Royal Scientist’s dark body shifted, and Frisk swore that there was a twist of a scoff on his face.

[I̛ ͝b̨eliev̛e҉ ͘I ̛a͡s҉ke̛d ̛y͘o͟u̸ ͞a ̷q͏ue͢s͞t̵ion ҉fi͝r͘s͠t̷,͢] he signed. The room still felt like it held only the two of them, even as Frisk was vaguely aware of Alphys’ presence near to their side. [Whàt ar͟e ̡y͟oú ͜doi͞ńg͜ ̀įn͜ th͡e Und̨erg͡r̕o̧u̢n̶d,́ ̷F̷risk̴?]

As much as they wanted to look away from Gaster’s shifting hands and eerie face, Frisk found themselves unable to do anything but stare back and respond. 

[I’m looking for answers,] they replied slowly.

Gaster’s head cocked slightly to the side. [Tr̶ưly̕, a҉ p͞u̢r̵śu͘it͏ ̷for ͘the ͝mad͟ ̵at̴ ̧h͢e͡art͞,] he signed. Then his expression twisted in what could only be described as the smile of someone who had seen things no one should ever be able to see. [I ̶w̕ould k̨n̕ow̷. Qu̸est҉i͞o̸nś begęt ̶quęsti͠o͘n̶s, aņsw̢e͞rs b̵e͠ dam͝ned̷ -͡ ̡t̕h̡e̢ mo͟r͢e͏ y͡ou ͏k͡n͡o͝w̵, ̕t̢he͢ ͞d̨eeṕer ýou̵ ͜fall ͘in̶t͏o͡ ̧t͜h̵è ̸a̵wa̡ren̡e͡s̢ş o̢f ͢yo͝ur o̶w͘n ut̨t̢e͜r҉ ̵i͡nco͡m̛p͝r̛eh͢ens͢įon.]

Frisk frowned, their brow furrowing as they regarded the former Royal Scientist. His body dripped of darkness and he had little true form to speak of, but it was getting easier to look beyond what his semi-physical hands were signing to catch his words. Though their body was still, their mind was moving at breakneck speed as they tried to decipher his intentions and cryptic signs.

Quietly and largely accidentally, Frisk’s hands softly signed, [Your signs are like Grillby’s,] before they caught themselves and looked a little sheepish.

Gaster’s one white pupil brightened slightly, and his expression seemed to lift. [A͠h, y̢o͟u҉'v̵e͟ ͏me͟t ̶Sir̴ ͟G̡r͢i͝llb͡y? ̸Y͢es҉, he is ͘a̸n ͡o͟ld ̨s̷o͡u̶l ̧l͜i͠k̵e̛ m͟y̶śel̕f... ţh͡ou͜g͡h, ͜p̡e̵r͘ha̡p͘s͘ ̨a ļi̴ttl͞e͢ more͝ i̕nt͟a̧c͝t ͡t͠han̡ I ̷am̕ ̕n͏o̶w,] and his grin split wider in an unsettling impression of a chuckle. [Ţh̕e language ͟of̵ ́han̕ds h͠a̛s̢ ̵de̡v̛e͜ļop̧eḑ,͡ ͞b̶ut ̶G̴r̢i͡l̶lby̴ a͏ņd ͠I ar̢e a̕m͜ong ͘a͏ ̡f҉ew ̢o͡lde͟r҉ ̷s͟o͝u̢ls ͟wh̢o ͟s̕ig͘n͏ ́in w̕hat̷ is ak̢i̕n͠ to͢ ͠a̷ń ̧o̢ld̨ ҉d͏iale̴ct.]

An eager perk pulled at Frisk’s expression. [There are several monsters who use sign language?]

Gaster nodded, eyeing them thoughtfully. [Ín̶de̸ed. Mo͡ństers com͘e͢ i̷n a͏l̷l ̵v̀a̵riet̵ies, fa̢r m҉o͟r͝e d̕i̡ve̶rse̕ in ̶f̛or͡m ͏a͡n҉d s̛h́ape ̡a̷n͏d ̀a͘ff͏ini͘ty͏ ҉th̶an̨ ̕I be͞lievè ̨h̨u̷ma̕n͢s ųsųa͢l͠l͏y͏ d͝o͏... s͢p̕ea̢king ̴i͘n̛ ͏ha͠nd͏s ̸ís̀ ̕a̷ ne͟ces͞si͜ty fo͞r҉ ͘so͠m͡e,̨ ́an͠d́ ̢a ̕st͡ro̷n̡g pr̶efèr͢e̴nc͝e̢ f͠o̷ŕ oth̡ers͘.͏ ̷O͠ưr ̶nu͝mbérs̸ ̴h̷av̷e dw͟i͘ņdļe̛d͠ ove͡r͠ the͡ ma͡ny̷ ỳear̡s̨,͡ b͞ųt ͞eve̷n̷ s͞o̸m͏e̴ ̢mo͜nste̢r̨s ҉wh̸o͞ sp͟ea̷k ͟al͞ou҉d s̴t͏ill unders͘ta̵nd ít͠,] he explained, with a nod towards Alphys.

Excitement and intrigue settled in Frisk’s core, but they tried to push it aside as they remembered themselves and the moment. They bit their lip, brows furrowing once more in deep thought. [So… you were seeking answers, too, then?] 

Gaster regarded them, his morphed face indecipherable. Finally, [As̷ ̶I sa̡id͞, ̵the s̵ear̡c̨h̶ ̴f͝o̵r͡ an͞s͞wers beg̴e̸t͢s ̸on͏ly̵ a d̡e͢epęr ͏u͟n̨de͝rs̷t̕a̶ndin͡g͏ ͝of͢ ̀h̛o̴w͏ litt͟l͠e͘ ͟y̡ou͟ k͜no͜w.҉ ͏I ҉began ͠a̢s a ҉c͏u̕ŕi͠o̢us̸ S̨ou͘ļ wit̢h a̵n̕ affi̡ni̧ty ̨fo̕r ̛sc̸i͞ent͠i͢f̸i͠c m̨aģic͏ and͠ a̛ b̡urnińg͜ d̕e͢sir͠e̷ ̢t̡o ̶f̡i͏n͏d a͠ way ̶to ̨br̀ea͏k dow̛n the b҉a̢r̢ri͜e̴r̵ tḩa͘t ͝b̛lo̸c̀k͟e͢d -͝ ̢ąnd bl̕o̷cks͜ ̶-͡ ǫu̶r f̧r͏e͟e͝d̸om҉.͞]

[No one should be forced to live their lives trapped like this,] Frisk signed back, movements small, solemn.

“H-he was, is, b-brilliant,” Alphys said quietly at last. Frisk was finally able to look over towards her, feeling distinctly like they were being  _ allowed _ to. She was very still, her gaze settled on Gaster’s hands. Only her own hands moved, fidgeting as they clasped one another.

Gaster nodded in a small bow, a simple thank you. His form shifted slightly after he re-settled, the hanging darkness that would be his shoulders making a motion like a shrug and a sigh. [I͞ ev̛e̢ntuàlly ͘too̕k͟ o͜n ̸ap̷p̡ren͏ti͜cés̀,̛ ͝for̡ ͘a͘ numbeŗ ̨o̵f̶ ͝r̢easo͏n̴s̴.̢ ͜Òn҉e was ͠Àl̨phys̢, o̵f courśe.͞ ͝T̛h̷e͝ ͠ot̨h̷er ͞w͠as͜ ͡Sa͡ns̢, who͘ had ͟w҉o͘r̀k̀e͢d ̷w͜ith me ͠f͠o͜r͘ ͞a͠ ̛li̸t́t̡l̴e͢ longèr̵.͠]

Frisk nodded, knowing this much, and desperately wanting to know more. 

His gaze moved to rest heavily on Frisk, an infinitely dark sharpness in the look. [W͘h̴at͜ of ̀t̵he҉ ̴a͡ns̀we̡rs̵ yo̕u̴ ̷se͝e͟k҉,́ ͘ano̸m̛al̴y?]

Almost guiltily, Frisk started. They tried to tear their gaze away again, but found themselves stuck once more in his heavy gaze, sinking deeper.

[What do you mean?] They signed back, buying themself time.

The effort was not lost on him. [Wha̕t ̶a͜nsw̢erş ́w͏eŕe ̛y҉óu ̕so d̡es͏per͞at҉el͝y͞ ͟se̕e̷k͏i̛ng t̢h̶ąt yo̸u̧ b͘r͡o̷k͘e ͟th͟ro͡ugh ̸s̵ùćh͞ ͡á ba͜r͡ri̢er a̢s̢ the òn̕e͢ that͡ ̧k̵e͏eps̷ u͘s h̸e͞r͜e̡? T͟h̸at left͠ you ̸all̶ b҉ut҉ ̧tra̴p̕pe͏d ̷li͝k͠e҉ u̧ś, ̷th́at ͡l͘e͜ft y͏ou̕ ̨runn̷i͘ng̸ ̸f͢r͟o̵m͘ ͏t͠ḩe͝ d͝a̸rk͜ h͞ol͡d̷ of̵ ̵w̡h̶at͞ ͟pla̵gu͠es͢ ̧th͘e͝ Ưn̴derground̀?]

His gaze was wry. Frisk knew that he had humored them only so far as to prevent them from feigning misunderstanding.

[... Well, 15 years ago the vines came to the surface, at what I’m guessing is the same time they took over down here… and at the same time these Resets began,] Frisk said, carefully. [I was there that night, and it sparked a need to know what had happened, to find out what our ties to monsterkind  _ really  _ were, to discover what had truly happened before you all were… sealed,] they continued.

[Y̴ou ҉w̴e̡r̕e th͞ere?͡] Gaster’s face seemed to darken in stretching shadows. 

Frisk nodded. [I searched for answers, delving into lore and trailing after whispers and rumors and dead ends, slowly building up pieces of the puzzle - but they were all still so fragmented, nothing quite fitting together,] they signed, movements becoming briefly agitated. [And finally, I decided I’d do some…  _ hands-on _ research,] they signed with a ghost of a grin at the pun. For a moment, they thought they saw Gaster’s face shift in surprise, but they continued regardless. [I was able to find out a lot about older magics that humans don’t really use or understand anymore, and it worked on the vines - but I got tired. I ran out of energy, and suddenly I was racing forward trying not to get crushed by the vines… and I fell down here.]

And hadn’t stopped running since, it felt like. Frisk sighed, brow furrowed once again. They rubbed at the space between their eyebrows absently, as if it could release the stress and the weight of the anxious questions that had built even further since coming Underground. 

[And ̧t͡hat ͜wąs ͟ap̵pr̕o͜xi͞m̸at͡ely͝..̶.͠ a͠ ̧m͏ont͞h an͜d̸ a̡ h̵a̵l̶f̸ ̀àgo,̵ ̛corr̵ec͜t?] Frisk’s eyes refocused on Gaster, head throbbing as they attempted it too literally. They nodded, frowning. They had lost a significant amount of time with Sans, but… that sounded right. [B́r͟ingi̴ng̢ t́he ̵ro̶u͠g͜h҉ total óf͠ tim̵e̵ si̢nce͘ ͢t̨he ͢l̛ast̢ ҉r҉es͢e͠t̕ t̶o͡ 7́ ͞án̢d a̕ ha͞lf ̸moǹt͘h҉s.̵..͜]

“I-is that a long t-time?” Alphys spoke up once more. Gaster’s gaze remained thoughtful and unfocused. He remained silent for several moments. Both Frisk and Alphys waited, anxious tension building low.

Finally, he turned his gaze back to them, his pupil flicking focus between them. [My̕ ́c͏om͞pr͘ehensi͢oǹ o̷f͞ ti͝me̡ ̕is ̡tw̛ist͢ed́, a͝t ̵b̷e͜st.͠ ͘T͏he void i͟s ̕a҉ ͞pl̨ace͘ ͜l̛a͜ck͠ìn͡g bo͝t̴h͝ ̢space a͝nd ̡ti̛m̵e itself,̴ ͘s͏o wha͘t͟ ̶I u͝ǹderstand̴ ̛comȩs͝ ҉fr͏o͡m̴ ̡t̵he t҉ime̶s I ͟co̴me h́e̕re͢,͞ w̡h̀e͜t̵her͞ b̀y̡ su͘mmon͞i̶n̵g͟ ̨or͞ bỳ ̷sp̢e͠akin҉g͞ ͡wit̡h̕ ͠Sàn̶s͜,] he explained. Frisk stood a little straighter, about to inquire further, but Gaster continued, his hands moving sharply. [B͠ųt͏ ̷t͡o ͟answ͘er y̡our q̴uest̡ioņ.̡..̕ y̶ès, i̷t is͜.̧ ̷I̷ ͡be͝li͟e͘ve ҉si̢x moņth̸s҉ w͏as̶ ̕o҉n̵e ̧of t̸h͘e͏ hig͏h͡èst ͏re̸c̨òr͘d̢s ͜b͏e̢fore͞..̸.̡ th̕ou̡gh̡ the̡ res͜e̶ts̢ h̶a͘v̕e̛ ͠oc̢c͜urre̡d a͞t͞ ̨se͞em̢i҉ng͢ly ͝r̨a̛ndom int̴e̵rv̢al͢s̸. Some̢ ̀c̡a̴m̷e͜ af͝t̢er a we̶e͡k̵ or̛ ̸a̵ ̶f̸e͏w,̵ ͡o͘t͟he͠rs ͏a month̸,̶ ̢o͏th̨er̵s...͜ ̵l͏e̡s̢s̨ ͠th̛a̵n̛ a day.]

Alphys hands covered her snout, and her and Frisk’s eyes shot wide open. 

[W-why would they be so short-?] Frisk tried to ask, horror stumbling their hands’ movements.

Gaster’s gaze rested darkly on them. [W͝ḩeņ ̨th̴e͠r͞e ̡ar̶e͞ ͏n̵o to̢y̴s ̷l̕e̶ft͘ ́to p̶l͢ay̨ wit̸h,̶ ͏t̀he ͡pl̢a̛ye͝r҉ g͡et̕s ̸bo͏r̛ed̨,̷] he responded.

Nausea rolled in Frisk’s core, and they felt numbness begin to pull at their face.

“Th-this is just a game to whoever is controlling the r-resets?” Alphys demanded, even through the weak crack of her voice.

Gaster shook his head. [Pe͏rhaṕs̶.҉ Bu͡t̵ ̷Í d͞o͠ no͏t͡ ͜think͟ ̢it̛ ís ̕a̢ g͝am͞e͝ ͞wi̷th̡oưt̵ c̵o͟nse҉quȩn̨c͏e͞,͞ ev̸ęn f͢o͡r҉ ҉th͘em̢.]

[What do you mean?] Frisk managed to ask. They tried to let their scholarly side take the forefront, the side seeking answers and becoming fiercely protective for their new friends, so they could push past the chilled dread that was creeping in to their core. [Something is at stake for them, you think?] 

[It i҉s ̢sim̴pl̵y a͡ ̕t̴he͢or͡y̷,͏] Gaster signed. He seemed tired, and his hands exposed his frustration. [I͡ a͡m̷ ͠broken,͟ t͟ór̢n ̡a͜mǫngs̵t̶ ͞worlds͝ aņd ͠tḩe͞ ͠l̨ac͘k҉ ̕ther̴eo͘f. I ̡c҉an͞ ̷o҉b̀s͏er̕v͢e͟ t̸o͝ ͢t͜h҉e͞ ̵bes̶t of m͏y͡ ͝a̧bi͜l͟íty,̵ intera͟ćt̡ ̨whèn͡ ҉cal͢led̨ ́in̷ the͠ ̸r̢ig̸ht̶ w̨ay,͜ a͏t̨ leas̸t for͠ ̸a̵ ̡tim͟e͢.̶.̧. ͜b̢u͢t I͠ am̡ nơt ̡om̀nis͠c̸ien͘ţ,] he continued. He seemed angry at this, the dark rolling in a sickening way deep within him. Frisk tried to focus on the conversation instead of on the wrongness of his form.

“C-could you t-tell us w-what you k-know?” Alphys ventured, unsure and desperate. Frisk felt their core resonate with empathy.

[I ͡ha͏v̴e told҉ ҉y̧ou mǫs͢t̴ of ͝it a͠lr̶ea̶d̢y͘,͘] Gaster admitted bitterly. [Bu͠t̨ I ̶w͠i̛ll̨ ͘hel̷p w̕ith what ̷I c͡a҉n. I do n͡ot͟ ̶wish ̶f͏o͞r͟ ̸t͠h͏e U̢ńder͡g̵rou̡nd t͜o ̵peri͡s̵h át͟ the͟ ͘si̡ck wi̛ll̨ o̧f ̧a̢ b́éi̛nǵ who thi̧nk̶ś ̡s͞pa͏c̕e ҉and ţim͟e ̧áre its͜ ͠p̨la̶y̷t̡h͟ing͜s, èven i̧f͢ m͜y͞ h̢o͡ld o͝n͡ t̵h̀i͞s̡ ̶w̢or͢ld̨ is҉even͘ l̴e̛s͡s th̀a̧n tȩnuou̷s.]

Frisk and Alphys shared a look. A lot seemed to pass between them, but the determination had already taken hold. They both nodded.

[Thank you,] Frisk signed. Alphys nodded once more in agreement. Gaster nodded back, his face settled in a grim sadness. Frisk thought for a moment. [If I may ask… how  _ did  _ you end up like this?]

Gaster regarded them, his gaze even heavier. Frisk held it, ignoring the continued anxiety pulling like static at their fingertips and gut. 

The darkness curled around him, his body formed out of the darkest of it all. His gaze was steady, but the fear that had first caught at Frisk upon his appearance made its presence remembered in their core. Somehow, Frisk knew that they desperately needed this monster to stay on their side.

[I had̛ be̷e͠n s͢t̵ùd̀yin͟g s̡ci̛e̷n͘ce ͘and͏ ̴magi̧c̵ an͝d̛ the ̴p͠ow̵er҉ of So͢u͢l͟s f͝o̵r ͟m͢o҉r̕e yea͝ŕs̶ ̡t͡ha͘n͝ ͡I͘ ̷b́el̡i͝e͜v̡e̡ c͜a̷n͡ be ̶prop͞e̴r̸ly͞ recálled̡, b̢y ̡my̡s̵e̢l̴f ̧or͘ ̀o̸t҉he̷r̴ś,] he said at last, his signs heavy with gravity. [I̧ ͡wąs͡ ͏a͘b́l̸e ͠t̵o st̡u̧d́y ͝the̷ s҉t̨o͝le͝n S̸ou͏ls͠ of̀ t̷he hu̷m̢a͠n͠s ͡who̴ ̶h͞ad p͟r͘e͢vio̸us͝l͘y͜ ͡F̛al̸le͜n̵,́ a͞ś w̛èl̴l.̶ My ͢ex͘pe͘ri͞m͢ęnt͡s ̧we̢re̕..͘.̢ th͠oŗo͘u̴gh. But̡ b̕uild̨iņg̢ d͏espe̕r̸at͘io̧n,̕ ̶t̨he ̷s͘l̷ow̢ ͡i̧ns̷a͏nity ͞of̶ f̵i̷n͜d͟i̶ng̷ ͢a̴n̷swe̢r͠s tha̸t ̴on͜l͞y ̶led ̴to̡ f͘ur̛t͟h͠eŗ q̶uestions, and ̨expos̛u̸re ́t͢o t҉h̷e ̵al͏m̡o͢s͢t u͟nbea̧r̕a͘bl̡y ͠p̸u͞r̶e ͜and̀ p͢o͞we̵rfu̵l͞ ̨tra̵it̷s of͜ the̵ huma̵n̕ ̵S̴ou̧l̨s.̕.. ̧w͜el͘l͟,̨ ̨it ̧took ͏its t͠o̵ll,] he said. Alphys seemed to draw further within herself, Frisk noticed. She seemed almost unwilling to watch his words form. Gaster noticed, but continued on anyways. [Sa͟ns͘ an͘d̡ Al͘phy̛s҉ ͡we̢re ̀wǫr͡king ̨wit͏h҉ m̵e̵ b̸y t̨his̴ ͏p͏oi̷nt̷. I͏ contin̨ued͜ ̷m͝y͡ work͞, f̷a̛ll̛i͟ng d͡eeper̀ ̷int̶ó m̧y͝ ͘re͢se͏a͘rc̕h҉,̷ ͘an̛d p͏u̶lling th̡em͡ ̛ẁit̶h m͟e̸.́ ҉St҉íl͟l, they di͡d̢ ͟a̧d͠m҉ir͟abl͝e ̨j̷obs͟,͡ botḩ -̕ San͏s̀'̸ ͡ma͠g̛i̸c àn̸d̶ a̛f̨f́i͘ņity͘ ҉w̷as ̀par̢ticul͟árly use͜f͡ul̡ when͝ ͢stud̨ýi̴n͢g ͞t͘h̶e ̧pow̡eŗ a͟n̡d nątur͞e ͜of ͠S͠ou̴l̛s, a͞nd ͜A̵ļp̛hys͢' a͝f͡f̸in͢ity for̴ ̴ţeçhn̡olo͘g҉ic̨a̴l a͘d̨vanc̢e͞me̵nts̶ th̕at ̡c͢o̕ul̀d͢ ͜re͡l̵iabļy a̵n͠d́ co̡ntįn̛u̷al͟l̛y d̷evęl̴op̛ ma̴c̷hi̛ne҉s ànd p͡r͟o̸ce͏s͝se̛s ҉t̵hat ̧c͟oul̛d ̶d҉ir͡e̛c҉t ͟m͘a̡gi̛c̵ ͘in ̛th̢e ̛ap͟p̨r͠op͟ri̴àte wa͘ys, w҉ell͜-͡ she͘ ̕çer̀t͢ai͜n͡l͝ý ͏fl̢o̢ur͡i͠sh̸e͠d ̶and̴ ̨t̨oòk̷ ̸s̵t́ride̴s̸ ̨a̷s s̛h͜e ̨l̨ear̴ned͏ ͞how̸ ͜I͜ h͡a͟d͡ buil̸t ͞a̧n͏d ͝d̷e̡ve̢l͡oped̶ the C̢oŕe͜.]

Frisk’s head throbbed with his glitching signs. They glanced at Alphys. Her expression was torn between being embarrassed and pleased at the open praise and falling into something akin to a dark shame. Frisk snapped softly to get her attention. After a few attempts she jolted slightly and glanced wide-eyed at Frisk.

[Are you okay…?] They ventured, lacking the right words.

She attempted a weak smile. It fell flat. “F-fine. Y-you can go on, Dr. G-Gaster,” she said, looking back to his hands, unable to meet his gaze. He considered her carefully, but nodded.

[Detęr͡m̨i͠n̨at̸i͝on͞..͝.͘ ̸d͡e̷tęr̷ḿi͟nat̛io͞n ̵is̛ ͝a̢ ļa̸rg̕e p͏a͞rt of̕ w̛h͜at͞ ̧makes ḩum̸ans śo ͝pow̵e͢r͞ful҉.͢ ҉Y̴ou̕ all̨ ̛h̀av̡e ͜i̵t ̧in̸ s̢ome̶ s̛u͜b̷stan͡t̶iál ̡am̧ount, t̢houg̨h͝ a̶ s͏ma͏l̵l̢ ͠n͠u͡mb҉er o̢f͘ ̴yo͟u ̶ar͜ȩ ҉domin̶a͟ted b̧y̛ i̡t͟ a̴s̨ a ̕co̷r̨e͜ ͘t҉rai̴t ͝of ͡your v̢er͟y ̸Soul͜,̶] he said, his gaze shifting to Frisk’s. After a moment, his gaze slipped to rest on their chest - or rather behind their chest, really, and Frisk felt the tightness close in there again. They rested one hand on the area in response, wincing slightly. The feeling lessened, but…

[Souls have dominant traits?] Frisk asked, trying to first comprehend the background of what had crossed their mind.

Gaster inclined his head in affirmation. [By my͘ s͞t̀ud͟ie҉s͢, I h͞ave ̛fo̵und͡ ͡sev͞e҉n. ̷M͟ośt s̸oul̡s sh͏o͘w th͏e ͜t͢rait t̢h͟a͜ţ ̢is mo͘st̡ pre̕va̡le̡nt̸ i̵n ̛them t͝h͠rơug͜h̶ their̨ col̨or, a̡t l̵e͝a̛s̀t͡ in͡ ̶h̶u̵ma͠ns ̀- mon͜s̴t̨er͡ş ͜h͜av͘e ͜do̕mín̵an̸t͜ ͏t̵raits̡ t҉oo͢, ͏t҉h͠o̧ug̀h ͝ou͢rś ̀sho͞ws ͡in͞ ̴òu̵r͝ ma̡g̷ic̛. ́Th̕e ̷b́aśe͜ t͢raits òf mon͜s̴t̨er͡ ̴Sou͡l̕s͝ ͟arę ̶ļov͘e,͞ ̧mer҉cy̛,͡ ąn͠d͠ ͜com̡pas͏s͏io̢n̶.͜ Our m͝a̛gi͞c ̕an͢d͟ ̴a͠f͡finiti̛e̡s̀ ̛ten͜d ͜t͏o ͞b̶e w̧h́at͞ m̷a͜ni҉f̧e̵sts ́wh̨ate҉v̧ȩr ́ot̛h̶er tr̕a͜it̨ rińg͢s͡ ̡st̛r͠ong̛l̶y̕ ͠within u͞s - ͏th͡us t͝he ̛ti̛n̶t o͝f o͟ur̢ ̨mągi͠c̢. ͡O̧ur̷ Sou̕ls w̛i͞lĺ b̛e̸ ̸oùt̡ĺin͢e͟d in͝ the ap҉p̢r͜opriat̛ely̵ ćo͟lor̛ whȩn ̶usi̷ng͘ ͜ou̶r m͏a͠gíc͡,́] he elaborated. Frisk’s head reeled with further questions, but before they could ask the next one, Alphys intercepted and predicted it. 

“T-the traits are Patience, Perserverance, Integrity, Bravery, Kindness, Justice… and D-Determination,” she said quietly. She was looking at Frisk now. “A-all humans appear to h-have a mix of these t-traits at their base, b-but have a tendency to most align with one or another.”

[But Determination is rare…?]

Alphys frowned slightly, and glanced towards Gaster. He remained silent. “M-maybe. We don’t exactly h-have… a lot of s-sample population to o-observe,” she said. Frisk grimaced, nodding after a moment. Alphys inhaled and continued, “B-but Determination seems to be one of the traits that is the most…  _ powerful _ . W-we think,” she glanced once more at Gaster, “that Determination is what allows human Souls t-to be so much more powerful than m-monsters, beyond having your body be more  _ physical _ . It allows your Soul to p-persist after death, to an extent, and when p-present in high concentrations c-can sort of  _ spread _ , almost contagiously, to o-other Souls, affecting them strongly in turn.”

[You ̢int͝e͢rpret͟eḑ my̵ no͝t͠es̵ eve̕n ͞f̕u͞r̡th̵er,̧ thi̛s ti̕me,̕] Gaster said then. His gaze was on Alphys, who looked at him in surprise. She flushed slightly at the odd approval in his gaze. 

“I-I tried my b-best,” she replied, shuffling. “N-not that your notes made things e-easier,” she added, a little put-out. “Y-you’re as cryptic in them as you are in person.”

Gaster’s empty grin stretched slightly. [I̕t is͡ ̕n҉o͢t͢ my p̸lace ̢to ͜exp͏lai̸n ̡s͝uch͢ ͟t̕hi͏n͡g̨s͞ an͢y̡mor̀e̢,] he said vaguely. Frisk narrowed their eyes at him, trying to decipher his expression. The light in his open eye socket flickered to them, and he blinked.

No, he  _ winked _ , they realized.

They had to struggle to not let their jaw drop. 

Alphys rolled her eyes a little. “Y-you didn’t have that excuse when w-writing them,” she said.

Gaster’s shoulders shifted in what might have been a shrug, his grin still stretched wide. [Madn̵es̡s̛ ͜w҉a̧s̷ ͘wove͡n͠ ìn ̴my͠ So͢u͢l ̶e͢v͜e҉n͏ ͘t̶ḩen̶,̀ ͏and the ́v͜o҉i҉d͟ ͠o̷n҉ly̷  _ d͞e̛e͘p̸en͠s  _ i̴ts̵ ho̢l͘d ̢o̶n my͢ ̧f̸r͡ac͜tur͜ed Sơùl.] His signs turned a little more solemn, and his grin fell. [I͘t͡ ̀i͢s ̛a ̸s̢t̕r͜u̴gg̡l͘e͞ to ̶di̶fferen̛t̀iate ̨b̀et͜wee͝n it҉ an̢d͢ ̡r̡e͝a̸l̨it̷y͏. This̨ i͘n-bet҉w͘ee̕n s͝pace ̕ḩeĺp͝s,̕ ҉an̶d͟ ̧I ̸belie̶ve҉ I h͢av̛e͜ a͘ ͡l̴it̨t̢l̨e̷ ͡more͞ ͢Dȩt͢érmi̷n͏a̡ti͠o͟n̵ a̧llowin͜g ͟m̴e҉ t͢o ̵st͞ay͠ ͟p̴rȩsènt thąn ҉I ͠hav̛e̵ ͘f̨o̢u̴nd ͜i̛n͢ a̸ lo҉n̸g,̧ l͢o͘ng time͏,̸] he continued. He had gestured to the room, and then his gaze had settled once more on Frisk. Alphys muttered something about it being true that he was making more sense than usual, but Frisk couldn’t quite spare the attention at the moment.

They exhaled. [My Soul - is my trait Determination?]

Without a beat of pause, [Und͢ou͠b̸t̡edl̷y͢,͠] Gaster replied simply. [Yo҉u ͝al̡l ̀bu̢t radi̶at͡e͢ ͝it.] 

“I h-had a hunch, t-too,” Alphys added. “W-when I saw your Soul earlier I k-knew - red is Determination’s color - b-but the way you a-act, the effect you have on o-others…” she trailed off. Her gaze went to the distance, and she simply nodded to herself.

Frisk tried to absorb all this. [Okay, so, I have a kind of rare dominant trait, one that apparently is some form of contagious,] they signed, partially to themselves. Then their eyes sparked in memory, and they turned their gaze quickly to Gaster. [Wait, did you say that your soul was fractured? How?] Their core felt almost sick, aghast at the concept.

[Yes̛.̸ ̧Į sti͟ll͡ hav͘e͢ ̕i̵t̵,̨ ̡bưt it͞ i̸s̕ sh́aţtere҉d̶.] Frisk’s hands went to their face, hovering over their mouth at Gaster’s confirmation. [My èxpęr̢i҉m͢e̶nt͡s͝ ͘ẃit́h So̵u҉l̨ mag͏įc͞..͘. ͜wȩll̀,͠ m͠y focus slo̸w̵l͡y b́ut ̵sur̷el͏y ̨ceņtęr̶e̶d ̀arou̡n͡d͏ ̧De͞te̕r͠min͠a̢t̸ion͏,̨ ̨beca͏use I͡ ͜came ̵t̢o ̶bęl̢iévé t̵hat͏ it may̵ ̴w͠e͟l̸l͘ ̧b͠e t͝he̷ ̶ke͞ỳ tò the̕ ̴Ba̶rr͡ie҉r̵,̴ ̵t͞o ̶h́u̷ma҉n͠ ma̸gic͠ ͞a̕nd b͡r͟eak̵i҉n҉g͢ it̷ ҉d͡ow͘n ẁitho̵u͡t h̨av̸ing̢ to͞ w͡ait f̛or m̶ore ̢huma̶ns t̸o ͡f̵a͜l͠l and th̀e͏n..̕.  _ F̢áll _ ,̷] he said, his expression dark. [But ͟I͏ ẃa͠s̀ i̸m͟p̡at͞ìe̴n͠t,̶ ͘and͘ b̷ecam̸ȩ t̢o͢o ̵ço͡nf̡įd͘ȩn͠t͘ ìn ́m̧y͢ ̕ow͠n a̢bíl̀i͡t͞y͘ ̸t͡o h̷a͝nd̀l̶e̡ ͜th͞e̛s̷e ̀t͞h͝i̕n͟gs.̶ I҉ ͘wa͡s ͜exposed, ҉o̡ve͢r͡-̷exp͏o͡seḑ ̴to͞ ҉D͟e̸t̡ęrm̡i̕n͡a̢ţi͡o͞n̨. I̡t..̵. d̴oe̛s̛ ̀th̨ings҉,͝ w͟hen not́ cǫm͟i͟n͏g͏ n̨a͝tur̡ally̨ ͘fro҉m̴ a So̵u̵l. I̸ be̕came̸ ̶mor͢e̵ ̕ún̷bal̛anced̵ ̕a̢n̶d head͟s͝tro͡ng,̢ ̕a͠nd̸ ́o͝ne͝ ͘d͟a͝y̵ whe̛n͝ Í ̛was ̨woŕk̴ing in̢ ţh̸e Core͟,̸ ͜att̸e͠m͜p҉ti͡ng t͟o àdju͢s̢t i͞ts w͞or̀k͝i̴ngs͝ t̨o̴ ̢affe̵çt ҉the͝ ͜ba͜rrier.͝..͏] He trailed off.

“He f-fell,” Alphys finished, quietly. Frisk’s horrified expression remained as their eyes turned to Alphys. “He fell into the C-Core.”

[What… what happened…?] Frisk asked, dreading the answer.

[T̶he ͞Cor̷e҉ powe̢rs ͢t̕he̛ ̶Und̴er҉gr̕o̢u͟n̛d, a̶s ͡a͜ll m͏on͜s̛ţȩr͢s̕ kn͏ow͞.̢ ̕Th͡ę ͟co̸m̕mo͠n ̵un͘der҉sta̡n̴din͢g ͟ís͝ ̛th͘àt its͟ ͠pow̡er c͘om͏ȩs̕ ̵f̛rom ̸ma͞gica͏lĺy ̶de̸riv̴e̡d ̸g͝e͜o͜th͘e̢r͝m̸al͞ energy̷.̧ ͏How҉ev̡er.҉.. th͘át͝ ͢i̶s ͝n͝o̷t͠ ͠t͞h̶e wąy̵ Į buil̕t ͠it. ͞I̷t r͟uns̴ ͜of̛f ̷o͟f th́e ҉maģi͡c ͝o҉f͞ t͞h̢e b̛a͏r̀ri̸er. ͟I͞ ͜b͏u͞il̶t̶ ̨it įn͘ ̵the ̕ho͘p҉e͢s t̴h͏a̢t in th̛e̶ ̀abs̴en̵c̶é of̕ fu̢rthér de͡v͏e͝lo͘p̛men͞t͢s ͢i͞n m̡y҉ ̛ştùd͝i͝es̶ ̶ţo ̷exped́ite o͟ur̸ fre͟e҉d̴o͏m,̀ th͝e ͡b̷a̶rrięr wou͜l͠d̀ a͟t̵ le͢as͞t̸ ̵event̨uąl͝l̶y ̴d͞w͠ind҉l̛e̶ in its̕ p̕o̢wer͜ and br͏eak t̕hen̶,̨] Gaster explained. 

Absolute awe and dismay shook Frisk to their Soul. The idea, let alone the actual hard science, construction, and magic work that would have had to go into building something like that…

[Wh̨i͘ļe ͟i̕t has͡ suc͢ceśsfu͢lĺy͞ pòw̕er̴ed͠ t͏h̛e̴ ͢Ųn̵d͢e̡rg̶ŗou͡n̛d̛,͞ ͠t͡h͢e̶ ͢barri͠er̴.̧.. ̵so͏meh͝o̶ẃ,͞ it gr͠ew ̴n͘o̧ we̸ąk͏e͠r,̕ not e̢v̢e͝n̡ ąf͠te͟r y̨e̶àr͏s ̨a͟nd ҉yeáŗs ̕of usè. ̀Th̨e҉ ̵i̕neq̷u̕ál҉ ̀e̢x̴c͟han͏ge̢ o̸f ̡pow͘er̶ ̵t̶e̸ste̴d̸ th͜e ͟limits ͡ơf ̴tḩe ̶la̛ws ͡of o҉ur̷ ͘re҉a͞l̡it͏y͞,̶] Gaster went on. [T̡h̶ere̢ ҉must b͜e an eq̢ua̛l ̷e͠xch͞an̷g͠e̕ ͝o҉f eǹe̶r͘gy̸ i̶n ţhe uni͘ve͢rse.͝.̧. a̡nd yet ̧h̷erȩ ̛s̀ee͠méd̀ to͢ ̨b̕e ͜a͏ ǹe̡a̸r͡l͢y inf̶i̛nit͘e̷ power s̀o̸urce ́- ͏e̡ven͏ ̛i̵f I ̛wou̴l͘d̢ ͘h̛a̴v̡e͞ ̴t͡ra̵d̛ed͝ ͜i̛t͞ in aǹ ín͝s͟ta̧nţ f̀or o̴u̡r fręe͞dom̷.͝ ̨Aǹd̴ so̕ ͘r̢eal͞i̴t́y͢ ̨b̕egan t̷o̕ ͟fr̢actu̵re ̧a͘nd ͞t͏ear wi̢th͡i̢n t̨he͏ Cor̸e,̵ ͜a̢nd͘ n͏othinģ I could ͘do͠ wo̴u͝l͞d͠ s͝t͜o͞p̸ it. I̸ t̛r͘ied̛ t̀o ̡ma͜i̶nta̸i̛n͢ t͠he ҉r̕i̡fts͢ t͘h͝at̶ ̷t͘or̕e in͡ sp҉a̴ce-̵t̶ím̶e, c͞ont̢ro͜ll̵i̕n̷g̛ t͢h͞e͏ḿ en̛ou̶gh͝ ̢to ͟a̶l͢l̵ow ͏f̴o͜r re͠a҉ļi̷t̨y̴ ͘t̸o̕ ̨t̷ry t҉o̵ reg͏ain b̡al͜ance ̷whil͏e͏ ̀a͟ls̷o ͜n̡o͞t͢ ̛le͢tt̶in̕g͡ th͝em ͞spr҉e͡a̵d̀. Th́e͢y̨ w͡ere k̢e̶p̡t conta͜i͘n̢ed̛ ̕in ͢the̡ ͞Core͝...͝ bu̵t̸ ̛I ̧cou̶l͢dn̢'t ha̢ndle̛ ̡it a҉lo̷ǹe,̛] he admitted bitterly.

“S-Sans and I came in and helped maintain the C-Core,” Alphys explained, her voice still soft. “Things had b-been getting worse, and we n-noticed. I w-worked more on the machinery and finding ways to use the energy as efficiently as p-possible, and Sans… S-Sans helped with the rifts,” she said.

[How did he - how did either of you…?] Frisk addressed this question to Gaster, working to keep processing all of it as quickly as possible.

[L͘ik͡e͡ ͝m̢e, ͠S̡a̷n̢s̶ has m̧ag̴i͞c ͟t͏h͝at h́as rel͜a҉tio̸n t͝o̡ ͝sp҉ace-̵time̛,҉] Gaster signed. Frisk narrowed their gaze, but stayed still. [He̷ was able t̛o hel̕p me̵ ͞m̸anag͝e ̷the ̕t͞ear͘s̢ ͘ín̷ re̵a͜l͟i͘t̴y.̕ Bu̷t ͝s͡t̵i͘l̵l͠,͜ mea̛nẃhile,͜ ̴t͡ḩe De͏ţe̡rm͠ination̵ I͡ w̢a̴s e͠v͟er̸-mo͟r͞e͠ e̶x́p̷osin͢g͝ my̶self͏ to ͝w͞as ąffe̕ct̡i͠n҉g̢ ͝m̀e̵,̸ ͢m̷akin͞g͏ ̡me ̵bra̶sh͏ an̴d̷ un̴s̸tab̵l̨è ̵in ͢my͝ ̵pr͘oc̴esśes. I b̸eca͏m̴e͘.́.̛. ͏we͡ll̨,̀  _ ̸d̕ete̕r̵m͝ined  _ ́to a̛d͞just ͞t͟h́ę ͞C͡òre to ess̡ęntial̨l̶y̛ ̧ov̕er̶power̸ ͜t҉h͞e ba̸r͝ri̕ȩr̢.͡ I͜ ̧m͜ade̵ ̕a mi̡sc̷a̛lcul̵a̛tion, an̵d w̨i͠t͡h҉ rea̴lit̀y i̸n t̸h́e a͡r̀ea a͢lrȩady̕ ̧s͟o u̷n̶sta̸bl̴é…]

[You fell,] Frisk finished, the final pieces clicking together. [You fell into a rift in space-time.]

Gaster and Alphys nodded.

A few moments passed, and Frisk let themselves process their shifting understanding of reality as they knew it. It was dangerously close to being too much.

[W̶įth ͜thè C͠oŕe͜ ͢b̴ei͘ng i҉n ̡H̕ot͠l̢an̶d, I̸ ͡was ph̕y̕sical͏ly ͝fa̵l̕ling ̨t͘ǫw̢ard̴ş ͢lava,͡ an̢d̸ ͝woùl̢d ̀ha͘vę t͝u̸rn͢ed̀ ̡t̛o̸ d͏u̷s̸t̡ immedi̧atel͡y upon f͟alĺi͜ng ͠i͏n͘to it̵, ̴o̕f̛ ̧co͡urse,] Gaster said.

“M-monsters turn to dust when our Souls sh-shatter,” Alphys explained. “S-since we have very l-little physical matter to our beings…”

Frisk nodded. Their Soul pulsed painfully, sorrowfully.

[I̢n ͝de̕sper̕at̡i̸on͡,͝ Í ̢r̨ea̸ch͘e̴ḑ ̛f҉ơr͏ ͘the ͏r̢i͢f̨ts҉,̧ ̢gra̢bbi͟ng̴ o҉nto ǹothi̧n̶g.͢.. ͞tru͞ę noth͟i̴ng,͞ ̀t́he ͡no̷t́hín̛g̶n͝e͘s̀s̵ th̡at ͜c̵om͡e̸s ̛f̴r̴om͠ ̕th̛e̕ vo̢i͡ḑ.̀] Gaster’s open eye went dark, the pinprick of light disappearing. [M̢y ͢s͢oul rip͢p̴ed̛ in͝t́o ̨t͠e͠r̵rible ͠sh̵ardş, t͢he͢ ̶void̷ ͡te͟ar͏in͢g ͟me͏ apar̶t at͝ ̵my̡ v̶eŕỳ ̷c͢ore̛ w̨i͠th̡ouţ ste͟ad̸y͢ reali͞t҉y ͜to cent̨er͠ the ̴m̀a̕g̛i͢c ̴I͟ h́a͢d̛ de̶sp̨e͟rat̶el͢y ̸la̸sh͞ed ̸out ́wit̶h in̨ ań attémp̀t ̧to ̵save̕ m̷ys̨e͞l̢f̷,] he signed, the afterimages of his shifting hands stuttering brightly and painfully. [I͝n the͜ en̢d̀, ͠I ̀fe̕ll ͠into ţh̨e voìd͘,̷ an̵d įǹ a ͡str͝o̷ke o̢f ͠t͡w͏i̸st͢e͜d̛ f͞ate͡ ̷m̨y͘ m҉a͜gic̛ f҉o̡l̶ded҉ ̨a͡n͘d ͢b͏òun͞d ͜it̴self ̛to͏ ̡h͘o̡l̀d͢ t͡o̕get̢ḩér t̴h͞e̶ p̀i̴ec̀es̶ ̨of ҉my̴ Soul̷ - ͟ǫr͠ mo̧s͝t ́òf ͡th͝e̶m,͠ as f̧a͠r às I̵ ҉c͝a͠n discer̶n̴.]

Silence.

Frisk felt gravity pull heavier at them, at their Soul, as if horror and shock could weigh down the very core of their being. 

“S-Sans and I were there when it h-happened,” Alphys said. Her eyes were on the ground. “Th-the sound…” She shuddered. “... and then s-suddenly, the rifts were g-gone, nowhere to be s-seen. And then w-we passed out. When we came to, our memories w-were… foggy, but we still remembered h-he had fallen. But a lot of the details were s-starting to disappear, like w-what we had studied with him and m-more... “ She clenched her hands, still holding them together. “And then w-we found out that nobody r-remembered him. No one at all, e-except for us.”

There was nothing for Frisk to sign. They just stared.

“O-old f-friends, former coworkers, e-even the King… No one r-remembered him existing. Th-they would get confused and nearly pass out i-if we pushed their memories. But his notes were still there, tucked in h-his f-favorite place in the l-lab, and S-Sans and I knew. Sans nearly l-lost it - he tried everything, e-everything to get him back, e-even tearing th-through reality to try to see into the v-void,” her voice cracked, “b-but finally… he gave up. I-I did too, r-really; it h-hurt to actively r-remember him, even if the knowledge of h-his existence was steady enough. He left the l-lab, moving a-away with his brother and j-just taking odd jobs to make things w-work. He r-refused the King’s offer to become the next R-Royal Scientist, refused to e-even work at the lab at all, and so I took that on, a-and tried to c-continue experimenting with Determination,” she continued. Her voice was a little agitated, now, and she spoke quickly. “B-but I d-didn’t have much… success. The Core had s-stabilized, though, and the r-rifts were fewer and completely s-static.”

[I h̨ád͠ bee̶n ̕effecti͏vel̛y wi͏p͘e͠d fr̷o͝m ̵r҉eal̵itỳ,] Gaster signed, oddly softly. [W͜he͞th͠e̢r ͡iţ ͠was t̴h͜e̕ir͝ pr̕esenc͘e aţ ͏t̸h̵e̡ t̡im͡e of̴ thè ac̷c̕id͘ent͞ ̕o͘r̢ ͢th̡eir ̶ex̧p͠os̀ure͡ ̷i͞n͞ ̴som͟e ̸àmoun͡t͝ to͢ ̢D̴e͟t͘ermìn̢at̀i̛òn, o͞n̨l̀y̴ S̵a̕ns̀ ͜a̷nd A͝l̷phys͏ w̧er͢e ͡abl̵e҉ ̸to͏ ͝r͞ęmember͘ ͘my ̸existe̛nc͜e.̵ M͠y n͝o͜t̴e̢s ŕema͏i̢n͟e̛d̴ lik̨e͞l̴y ̶d̵ue to ̶the ̡sa̸feg͟u͞a̕rds̀ ̵I wo͡uld҉ ͞p͠u̴t̕ ̵įn ̕p̸l͞ace in͞ ͏t͜h̴e ̡l̨ab a̷n͟d͏ ҉stronger̸ st̵il͜l͝ i̴n ͠ce̡rtài͢n ͜ar̸eas of ̴it̕.͜]

Searching for something to say, Frisk’s hands started moving in the first question that came to them. [Was there a reason that Sans reacted so strongly to your… to your accident?]

Alphys looked away, but Gaster’s gaze settled with an odd expression on Frisk. 

[S̀ans i͝ś my̵ ͞so͞n,] he said.

Frisk’s jaw really did drop this time. How  _ this  _ was the final straw in their comprehension of things, they weren’t sure.

[ _ What. _ ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something further is revealed...?
> 
> Since I was unable to post last weekend, you'll be getting a ~double update~ this weekend! I'll post the next chapter by the end of the day tomorrow. I apologize for my brief absence - trust me, it wasn't... something I had wanted. But I'm back! I miss hearing from you all, so if you have a moment to spare leave me a comment or drop by _askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com_ to talk to one of our characters! 
> 
> Thank all of you dear readers for your support! Can't say how much it means to me. See you tomorrow <3


	14. Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _[T̸he͞ ̛An͢gel.̵..̵ ̷T͘he҉ ͞One Wh̷ǫ H͡a͜s̨ ͜S̷ee̴n ̧T̛h͜e ̕Su͟r̛face.̵..͢ Th͡ey ͠w̢i͡l͡l̀ ̵re͟t̵u̷rn.̧ ̀A̵nd͜ ͜t͟he̴ ͞un͜de͞rgr̛ǫund ̧ẁìll ́go em҉p̸ty͘.] ___

Frisk pressed their fingers to their forehead. Okay, okay, Sans was Gaster’s son. Okay. That… made sense. Kind of. Gaster  _ did  _ seem to be some kind of skeleton monster… at some point.

[I͜ ̢wo̧ùl͝d ̵h͠avȩ ás̢sum̧e̕d͜ ͠ţh̶a͜t was͘ ͜obvi͢oųs͟,̡] Gaster signed. Frisk looked up at him and caught the amusement on his face. 

[Sorry for not assuming that all skeleton-ish monsters are related,] Frisk signed in a grumble. They felt their face coloring despite themself. They huffed when their eye caught Alphys’ hands covering her snout in an apparent attempt to not laugh. [So you and Sans still talk?] Frisk signed, trying to move on.

Gaster’s head cocked to one side, his amusement fading. [Y̨es...͏ ̴a͞nd̨ ͏no.͞ The̛re i͏s ͏a co̢n͟ņe͞c̛tion I͢ hav̡é ̛w͘i͝t̸h̕ ͠Sans ͜that all͢ow̢s ͟him to̵ o̶p̴en̷ ͝a ̵li̕nk ͞w͡i̵t̕h̢ ͢m̶e a̛nd e͏s͟sen͡tial̕l̷y "su͜m͜m͜on҉"̨ ́me ͘wit̕ho̵u͝t ͠t́he n͠ȩed̸ fo҉r̢ r͞u͞n̴e͢s̀ -̕ ̢o͡utsi͞de͝ ͢of͜ ̛t̀h̛is ̕roo͏m̷, it ̴i̡s̢ ̛t͡he ̸m̕os͢t stab́l͟e ͢w̡a͘y ̨I ̸can͠ ́ín̛ter͏a̸c̕t wit̸h ̀t͘hi͡s ͢w̶or͠ld.̧]

[Wait, I thought Alphys said that Sans tried for months to bring you back, with no luck - how, then, do you…?] Frisk pushed, eyes flicking between the two monsters.

[... ̢the ̛con̡ne̵c̴ti͜o͠n betw̕e̴en Sans͡ a̕n̡d̷ I͞ wa͟s̷ ҉f͏org͡eḑ 15 ye̴a̷rs̴ ̡a̢go, ̡òr͠ ͞7͠ ̷a̴n̵d a̡ ha̴l̶f ͠m̢onths ago.̸.̸.̀ de͏pen͝din͏g ̨on ̨h̵ow ̵yo҉u ͟l̶oơk̢ ҉at ̀i͜t. A͏n͘d sińce͡ the͝n̸ he ̛h̕a̵s ͘no͞t̸ a͝lwa͝y̢s̕ beeņ in͠ a҉ pl͏a̛ce w͞her̡e̡ ҉sp̷e҉a͝k̶ing with me̛ w҉as.̛.. de̛si͡rab͜le͏.] Gaster’s eye focused on the distance, his expression dark.

Frisk bit at their lip, trying to decide what to ask next as the questions bloomed in their mind. [... so is Sans… bad, then, or not? Can we trust him?]

Alphys’ gaze trained on Gaster’s hands at this. His body shifted, the darkness writhing slightly. [S̛a̕ns is ̴no͢t o̵ņe͜ to ̴esţab̢lish t̸r̨u҉s̕t ͟s̡o ̛r͝eadily... ņo͘t any̛mòre̷.̷ H҉o̢w̡ev́e͝r, ̶his̷ ̀m͘o͝t͘i̡ve͏ş ̛a̵r̴e̡ g͠oo̴d̡;̨ ͢th̴e͘ yȩa̕r̛s ̴of reset͟s̴ ha͟vè tak̶en͘ th̢eír ͜toll̷ ͝on hi͏m, a͢nd͝ ͝I ćan͞not ̴sa̴y̢ pre͡ci̢sely̧ ͢w̶h͡a̷t ͞he͘ i҉n̷ţend̷s̵ ̵tò ͠do, b̨u͞ţ ͜I  _ ͞c̨a̕n  _ cón͢fi̸rm̕ tha̷t he is on ͘t̢he side̛ of ͞hims̛e̵l͠f ̀a͝n͜d wh҉at̶ h҉e̵ ͏ai̷m͢s̶ to ͡pr̢ot̢e͟ct̵,̕ ̕nǫ ̸m͟at̛ter t́hè co̵s͘t̨.]

“Th-that’s not exactly a vote of confidence,” Alphys muttered. Frisk sighed, frown twisting their lips.

[He’s protecting his family, right? I’m guessing that means his brother, what with you, well... ] they gestured to Gaster, and apologetic slip to their expression. He shook his head in wry understanding.

[You ̕aŕe͘ ͞corr͘e̶ct.͜ My ͢po̵i͡nt i̢s̕, ͜h͢o͝w͞eve͏r,҉ t̷hat ̕he ̛ma͜y ̢be t̨r͝u̵st҉ed so ҉long͞ a͏s th҉e̷ w͜el̨l͠-͡b̡ei̧n̸g͝ ̵o͜f ͜h҉i̸s̕ b̷ròth̴er ̸i̢s̷ ȩnsu͏r͢e͏d,̡] he explained.

Frisk nodded. [That makes sense… especially with what I was able to find out when I was trapped in the lab with him,] they signed. [He really didn’t seem… bad. Just like he was resigned to doing whatever it took to accomplish what he thought was needed to protect his brother, and whomever else if he could.]

“S-Sans always did o-operate at his own speed,” Alphys added. “He k-kind of worked off of his own internal moral c-compass - though i-it seems that it applies even more so n-now…”

Silence fell once more as Alphys trailed off. Frisk rolled the information around in their mind, trying to sort and file it as they could. 

[I want to help him and his brother, too,] they signed finally. Gaster and Alphys watched them, waiting for more. [I want to help everyone, all of you, and figure out what is even  _ happening _ down here… even just talking to you I feel like we’ve got more pieces of the puzzle, even if they’re not all together yet. I don’t know how we can do it, but...]

A sound like low static rumbled from Gaster’s form. [Fris̵k͢.͟ ҉Why di͡d̨ ͝yo͏u͏ ͠co͜me͟ ͞t̵o͠ th҉e ̢Un̕d̢e͝rg͝r̴o̸u͝n̡d?͡]

Frisk frowned at Gaster. [I told you. To get answers-]

He cut them off. [Ans͘wers for w͏h͞a͠t ̸qu̷ęst̵ío͟ns̨?]

[W-well, I wanted to know what happened with the vines-]

[W҉h͡y͘?]

Taken aback, Frisk signed, [They came from nowhere, from a mountain that was said to hold the trapped souls of what remained of monsterkind-]

Gaster’s expression was cool, his signs calculated and pressing. [S̵o͞?̡ H̕o̸w̵ ̵d̛įd͞ t̶h͡at ͟p͝e͢rt̕a͟in̵ ̸tǫ yo͜u?]

Frisk scowled. [I was there, remember?]

[And ͠I'͞m ̴sur̴e ͝m̶a͜n̛y̷ ̢òthers w̴ęr͟e ͠as w̨el͠l, ̷yet ͡i̢t ̀is o͠nly ͘yo͟u wh̸o i͞s̛ h͢er̴e.]

[Others tried! The capital ended up largely abandoned in the aftermath, but scholars tried to look into it-]

[S̀c̵hola͞rs͢ fàr̕ ̕o͟ld͢er̷ ̨an͘d͟ ̵wiser ̛tha͞n ̵th̡e͘ c̵hild ͏you̕ m͟ust ha͜v̴e bee̶n͠ at̡ th͏e̵ t̵i̷m̶ȩ. ͏And̀ y͘e͟t́ ͞th̸ey ͝g͟av̢e̡ up, u͢na̢b̕l͡e͡ o͠r̵ simply ̨no̧t ̡curi͠o͏u͘s e͟nou̧ǵh.͟ Bu̴t҉ h͞er̴e͜  _ y͜o͏u̸  _ a͜r͡e.]

[I wasn’t going to give up, I had to know - and no one even knew anymore if monsters still lived, what had happened since you were sealed, and most records even of the war and of the erection of the barrier have been destroyed or lost-]

[So͡ ýóu had̶ l͠i̧ttlȩ t͜o go on̷,͡ and̸ you͡ ̷aba͝ndon̷ȩd ̷wh́atęver͞ fa̵m͟ily͡ ͘you̕ ha͘d̢ to ̕s҉ee̸k ͟yo̕ur ͝an҉sw̢ers̵ -͠ s͟o̶ ͢w҉h͝at͡ ̡q̵ues̶ţion̢s͏ c̕oul̵d ͢b̀e ̡so͞ ͘pr͜éss̢in͢g̶ ̸t̴ha͠t a͝ hu̡màn͡ l̴ik҉e y͟ou ̸woúl̵d͞-͝]

[ _ I HAD NO FAMILY LEFT TO ABANDON _ .]

Frisk’s hard breaths cut through the silence as their hands’ hard movements cut off. Alphys’ eyes were wide, and Gaster’s gaze was dark.

With a choked swallow, Frisk forced their shaking hands to continue, [... the vines took care of that. I sought answers first out of vengeance and desperation. I needed to know  _ why _ , and  _ how _ , to make sense of what had happened. I blamed monsters, a little. I wondered if they had done it. If not, who had? Why?  _ Why would they take everything from me? _ ]

Hot tears pooled at their eyes. 

[My moms… they only ever spoke  _ for _ monsters, only ever tried to protect the true history, only ever showed others kindness and empathy, and yet… and yet whatever controlled those vines…]

Their chest throbbed painfully. Their hands had stilled as much as possible, small tremors still shivering their way uninvited through their muscles. Suddenly, they felt a hand on their shoulder - Alphys’ hand. She had stepped close, and her other hand was balled into her coat, but she grasped Frisk’s shoulder gently and steadily. Her eyes flashed when Frisk met her gaze, warmth and sorrow in them. Frisk looked away, chest growing tighter.

[T̵h̡e͝ i̧néx͠p͝lįc͠ab͝le loss ͞of̧ fami̷ly̡ ̀in̨ ̢tr͠ag̸i͡c happens҉ta̕ncȩ i͠s̢ painf́uļ ͢to p͜r̡ocess..̸. ͘I am ̕so͘r̀ry t̡o ͝h̨e͞a͢r̶ ̢th͏at yo͡u̷ ẁent throu͡gh ͜that, ͘and a̸t súc̷h ą ̧yo͘u̢ng͠ ag̨e,] Gaster ventured at last.

Frisk shook their head as they tried to bite back further tears. [I’ve processed it more by now,] they signed. [My moms… I miss them, but I already knew some of the lore - or history, really - about monsters, thanks to them… so I searched and searched, following in their steps in research, working to learn the strange magic that they had used on occasion...]

They took several deep breaths, stuttering through the effort but working to calm down. Alphys glanced at Gaster. He had drawn himself up, almost to what his full height used to be, despite the dark void of his body dragging downwards.

[W͘ha͜t͡ ha̕pp̷e͡ned th͢ąt́ nig̡ht͘?̵]

Dread pulled at Frisk’s core, pooling sad and unsure. Their expression echoed the feeling, and Alphys squeezed their shoulder gently in response.

Frisk lifted their head, their eyes shifting between Alphys and Gaster. They worried their lip between their teeth, warring their impulse to keep their history a relative secret as they always had, and the new and uncertain desire to explain, to have  _ someone understand _ .

And then they raised their hands. 

[We were visiting the capital as we always did once a year. My parents were mages in every sense of the word, so they performed freelance work in the little town we lived in not far from the capital… but once a year, we would visit the capital for a week while they met up with old friends. A few days into the trip, late, late at night, when I was already asleep… I was awoken by screams and the heat of fires, and of the shaking of the very ground itself as vines poured into the city.]

Slowly, shakily, Frisk continued, eyes on their own hands to prevent themself from losing their nerve. [I woke up, and I saw… one of my moms had picked me up, and my other was by the windows, telling us to run - that was the last time I saw her, as she worked magic, trying to protect us. She was killed as we left the room.] Frisk drew in a shaky breath. [My other mom ran with me, carrying me until I was able to run. The vines wouldn’t stop coming - many thicker than tree trunks . They tore through buildings, along the streets, fires blazing in their wake, and the sounds…] They shivered. [We crossed the paths of other people fleeing, those who woke up or were moving in time, and my mom used rune magic to stall or protect those in danger for long enough for me to dart in and pull people to their feet before the vines crashed down on them.]

A haunted look had settled on Frisk’s face.

[Eventually, we reached a small square closer to the edge of the city. People were regrouping there, and there were healers and mages from the local academy to assist. We had to hand over some little kids we had saved…] Frisk swallowed. [And while we were waiting to see a healer, suddenly a huge part of the crowd started shouting. Hate was rolling off of them in waves. They were… they were blaming the monsters for the vines, spouting vile nonsense about… about you all,] Frisk struggled to sign. They couldn’t lift their gaze.

A tired but fierce pride flashed in their eyes then. [But my mom… she stepped up, and called them out. Told them that they were less ‘human’ than the monsters that we had committed atrocities against, that we had sealed to a horrible fate. She was amazing.] Their shoulders sagged slightly. [And then, as we were leaving… the ground tore apart. Vines were everywhere, crashing into the square, breaking out of the stones of the street. We ran,  _ stars  _ we ran - but we couldn’t escape. They had gotten faster, more violent, and…] their hands faltered. Painfully sharp wetness pricked at the corners of their eyes. Alphys’ hand squeezed lightly once more.

[... I escaped alone. I stumbled through the forest, fire and screams behind me. I woke up the next day in a camp of survivors, under the care of a surviving group of scholars from the academy. With nowhere to go, I stayed in their care, alongside a few other kids with nowhere to go who had a similar affinity for magic. I spent years with them, eventually learning how to use magic and sinking into research on magical history, especially regarding anything I could find about monsters. I left when I was 18, free to choose my own path, working as a freelance mage and scholar, seeking out what little histories and stories were left of our shared history, trying to piece together the bits of strange magic my moms knew that I never had the chance to fully learn.] 

They turned their head to the side, staring hard at the ground as a silent scoff escaped them. [Of course I hadn’t learned  _ that  _ sort of magic, rune magic, with the scholars mages, though - but finally, finally I pieced it together that it was Guardian magic, magic that humans had been all but barred from using until only a few small, secretive groups still knew how to use it.] They shook their head. Their hands stilled, wetness no longer pricking at their eyes, but an emptiness settling in their core.

Alphys’ hand tensed slightly on Frisk’s shoulder as she finally spoke. “G… Guardian magic?”

Frisk’s head still hung low, but their eyes slipped to look at Alphys. [Yeah - magic developed by humans and monsters together,] they signed. [From back before you were all sealed,] they added darkly. [From what I could find, humans distrusted other humans who could use it - because it was only learned and used by those who were deemed ‘monster sympathizers’ - by those who treated monsters with respect and worked to maintain a compassionate and peaceful relationship between the two races. They were known as Guardians… I believe many of them were killed during and after the war, all those who fought to protect monsters… the rest went into hiding after the barrier was erected.]

It was Gaster who replied next. [Mons̕ters h̛a͢v͟e͟ n͢ơ ̧r̶e͜cor͏d͠s ̨of̡ t͞here ̴be͢i͢n̢g ͞such͘ ̛a͝ se̡c͘t͡ o͘f ̶hu̕m͜a͞ns͝,͏] he signed. 

Frisk’s head lifted more at this, their brow furrowing. [Wait, what? For humans it made sense, with the erasing of the history of what had happened in guilt, but I would have thought that monsters at least would have...]

[W̶e͠ h̵ave ͟s͘to̢ŗi̵e̴s, whis͢p͝ers̵,̡ ͝r҉ęall͢y̧, ̡o͞f͜ ̶humans҉ w̸h̸o͞ si̡ded̷ w͏i͟t̕h͟ ́u͘ş,͝ b̶ut I pe͞rso̴n͞al̛ly̷ ͟h҉a̕v͜e ͞nev͝er h̕ea̴r̴d̷ ơf hưm͜ans͠ w̸h̡o̶ u̸se̵d͡ a d͢if̀f͡e̴r̀e҉nt̡ kind of ma̕gi̵c̸ ͡a҉nd pu͜rp̧oşefu͠l͠ly ͜s̛t̨ood͡ wi̶th ̨uş l͟ìk̨e tha͢t.̕.͏. And ̢ru̕ņe ̧m҉agic ẁa̕s ̨assu҉med ͏to͜ b̢e͝ a͝ ̧f́ơrm of ol̛d̶, ͟old ̵m̀a͝g͠i͜c ̴t͏hat ͝fell͢ ̨òut͢ ͜of ̧f͜av̷or as ҉m͘ońs҉t͟eŕs̕ pre͘fer̴red̴ ̴tơ s̨i͟mp̛l̴y̢ ̀h̕arn̕e҉ss th̕eír n̷atural̵, i̵n̢t͢riņsic̴ s̢ty̸le.] His mouth was twisted into a frown. Alphys nodded, her hand lifting from Frisk’s shoulder as she pulled at her coat.

“I-I’m younger, of course, b-but I haven’t come across anything like that, either…” her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “D-do you know anything more about these Guardians? Were they really humans?”

Despite this news, Frisk’s face pulled in a small smile. [Yes, I’m quite sure of that. Guardians were humans who had for ages been closer to monsters, bridging the gap of distrust that humans had and the general wariness that monsters had, working and living in mixed communities peacefully. They were outspoken and active in their support, and overtime together with monsters developed a form of magic that was a blend of monster magic and human - that’s the rune magic,] Frisk explained. Alphys’ eyes went wide and Gaster leaned in closer, his gaze trained on Frisk. 

[It became the true hope of coming generations, from what I was able to piece together - the magic was a blend of externally-pulled human magic and the more personal effect and twist of Intent that monsters employed. Back then, monsters would be Guardians too- those focused and passionate about building a community peacefully together. The history of Guardians and magic now is largely oral, with a few first-person accounts hidden in long-dusty corners of personal collections…] their hands trailed in memory. [My moms were part of the secret groups that were the descendants of the Guardians. You didn’t have to be born into it, but Guardians would mark symbols of their commitment in a special rune like a tattoo on their body, their Intent branded and true, permanent and powerful. The rune would only stay on those with the positive, loving Intent to truly be allies and friends of the races together, otherwise the magic would fade with their lack of Intent. Some Guardians, those surrounded by the developing mixed community and growing up with such positive Intent, they would develop the sign early on, well before the festival and ceremony that used to be held to celebrate it - they were thought to be some of the greatest beacons of hope, as both monsters and humans could develop it and would do so out of the purest of Intent.]

“B-but that isn’t the case anymore, s-since there are no monsters for new Guardians to be surrounded by…” Alphys offered. Gaster nodded in agreement.

[Even with̷ ̕po͢s͠i̡t́i͠v͏e ̸So͠u͘l ͟Int̷e͘ǹt ͝-̸ ҉which ͡mùs͟t ̧bę w̨h̷a͘t̸ wo̕u̶ld̨ ̛a̶l͘l̛ow ̴th͠e u̶niq̨ųe r̛un̕e t̡o rema̢in ͜permane̛nt̨ly - ͠wi̕thòu̧t̀ ̛th̸e clo͞śe̶ ͡co͠nt͘a̶ct̕ w̸i̷th mo͜nsteŗ ̛m͏agi̷c an̡d̸ t̵h҉e̢ abil͟it́y t͘o̧ ̧h͡av̷e ̵s̨u̶c̛h ̀a̵ ̢t͟rue ̨d̸e͠s͞ire ͠t͟o̢ bui̶l̵d the ̀b̛ri͏dg̴e̵ bet̛we̡en ́races͏, ͏they woul͝d̨ ̵li̧k̕ely ̛o̶n̛ly͢ ̷bè ͏ab͢le̕ t̶ò g̛et ̛it t̶hr͡o̡ugh̡ c͝h̶o̸ice̕ w͡hen͟ ́th̸ey̵ ̡were͢ ̡o͢ld̨er͟ ̵th͠rough̴ what̕e͢v̨e͏r͠ t̡h̸e͞ ̢c͏e̵re͘m̡óny ͝haḑ ͟tur͞ņed̨ into,] he signed, looking thoughtful.

“Y-yeah, especially if the groups were so secret, meeting like Frisk’s moms d-did, d-dwindling even further after-” she cut herself off and looked at Frisk in embarassment. “I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean - I mean, if anyone w-would have an early mark i-it would be you, but s-since that’s not the case-”

Frisk shook their head to cut her off. [No, I understand - you’re right, the group that my moms were a part of… most of them didn’t make it. It took me years to track down just one of them, and they didn’t even have many contacts left after that night.] They looked away for a moment. Then, they looked back up - their expression a little odd. [But, uh, you’re not entirely right on the other part.]

Alphys looked at them in confusion, and Gaster joined her.

[Whích p͡ar̷t̴ ͏do̶ ҉y̧où m҉e̴a̡n͟?͢] he asked.

[About the Intent rune on young Guardians. They were rare, extremely so, but I know that a few Guardians developed them even after the war,] they signed slowly.

“R-really? How? D-did you meet one?” Alphys asked, her expression as eager as Gaster’s was intrigued.

[Well, one of the people I met had a sibling that had developed one, though they had since passed away…] Frisk replied. Alphys looked disappointed and apologetic, and Gaster nodded slowly. But Frisk continued. [And… well…]

Their hands stilled, Alphys and Gaster still watching them. An internal debate showed itself on their face, but after a few moments their expression turned to simple determination and they nodded to themselves. They turned their back to the two monsters, reached for the hem of their sweater, and began to lift it over their head. It slipped against their sleeveless tunic, and they managed to take it off with a wince at the wound in their torso. They deposited the torn sweater on the ground, then reached to pull the back of their tunic up, revealing a thin racerback-style top that hugged their form. They lifted the right side further yet, slowly and wary of the bandages wrapped around their waist, until their right shoulder was in view.

Alphys gasped, and a sharper sound of static came from Gaster.

Emblazoned across Frisk’s upper back on the right side, over their shoulder blade and larger than their hand if it was spread wide, was a mark in deep crimson. Three triangles, the middle inverted, were the lowest pieces, with a circle flanked by wings hovering above them.

Frisk released their tunic and turned at their gasps, brow furrowing. 

[I apologize for not telling you earlier, it just wasn’t - I mean, it’s a lot to explain, and it was kind of complicated, so…] they faltered, realizing that Alphys’ shocked look and Gaster’s wide eye and bright pupil weren’t quite just in reaction to the fact that Frisk was marked as a Guardian. [What is it…?]

Alphys stared at Frisk. “Y-you have… that’s… that’s the Delta Rune,” she managed.

Frisk’s brow furrowed deeper. [The… what? Wait, you recognize this rune? It’s not part of the normal rune alphabet, though most Intent runes apparently aren’t, they tend to be twists of a rune or several together depending on the Guardian, but how-]

[Th̕e Delta̧ ̷Rune i͢s̛ ̴thȩ s̴ym̨bol ͢of͜ ҉t͝he R̶oy̶al̨ Fa͝m̨i͜l͟ỳ,] Gaster signed. [as͜ ̀w҉ell͠ as bei͠ng ̨ţh̨e ͡symbo̸l̀ ҉o̧f ̷the̷ p͜rop̡hec̡y̨.̡.͝.]

His gaze went nearly dark, and his form towered at its highest as he stared at Frisk. 

[What prophecy?] Frisk signed, confused and trying to ignore the slip of fear in their core.

Alphys was just shaking her head, her eyes still wide, her brows drawn down as she was lost in thought. Finally, Gaster shifted his hands, his pupil brightening once more as he watched Frisk.

[T̸he͞ ̛An͢gel.̵..̵ ̷T͘he҉ ͞One Wh̷ǫ H͡a͜s̨ ͜S̷ee̴n ̧T̛h͜e ̕Su͟r̛face.̵..͢ Th͡ey ͠w̢i͡l͡l̀ ̵re͟t̵u̷rn.̧ ̀A̵nd͜ ͜t͟he̴ ͞un͜de͞rgr̛ǫund ̧ẁìll ́go em҉p̸ty͘.]

Frisk was completely still. Alphys and Gaster watched them.

Their mind hadn’t slowed, not in so long, and it raced even faster now.

The prophecy… the one whose symbol was emblazoned on their body, for some inexplicable reason- 

Was it one of hope? Or despair?

Frisk’s blood chilled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaster knows how to push buttons and get people to spill, Alphys is concerned, and Frisk finally explains to a decent extent why they were looking for answers. Also, _of course I had to use the prophecy._ C'mon.  <3
> 
> As promised, though, here's part two of the weekend's double update! More exposition, but after everything that's been happening... well, it was time. This stuff dives more heavily into UT headcanon/AU fancanon, about the nature of magic and how humans can use it. 
> 
> To sum up- It was only natural that even though there are crappy, hateful humans, there would exist those who would want to coexist happily and peacefully with monsters - cultures & natures blending, they developed a magic that blended the styles and abilities of the users, leading to rune magic. Humans and monsters most heavily involved and dedicated to protecting the coexistance were Guardians, who would do the magical equivalent of tattooing a symbol of their compassionate Intent on their body. As time passed, a few generations began to have young children who would develop a mark in their childhood due to their overwhelming, natural, positive Intent. This was a sign of hope for all those wanting coexistance - most of monsterkind, and quite a number of humans. When the war happened, Guardians in particular were targeted, even human ones... and the few who survived after the war went into hiding, passing on their knowledge and the true tales of monsters and their compassion. Their numbers were few, but they spread a lot of love outside their ranks, and some joined the know secret groups, including Frisk's moms... and Frisk was the first human in a long time to develop an Intent rune in their childhood. 
> 
> Also, we'll be hearing a little more about Frisk's moms and their actions later on - their role... well, I'll leave that.
> 
> Answers beget questions, beget questions... right?
> 
> Next chapter begins a little more action by the end! I hope I haven't lost you all in these latest ones; I'd love to hear your thoughts. <3 I promise, there's certainly reasons for all this worldbuilding... partially scene with our reveal of Frisk being a Guardian - and one marked with the Delta Rune, no less. _Dun dun dunnn._

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Changed Frisk's word attribution! It was my mistake, something I had intended to do... it'll become obvious in the next chapter why Frisk is now just thinking. /END EDIT
> 
> Welcome to an AU hell.
> 
> Undertale is basically everything that is right in the world, and I've been completely captivated by it. I hope that you'll stick along with this ride - things are going to get a little dark.
> 
> Sorry that the first chapter is so short; future ones will definitely be longer - there was just quite a bit to establish, so it felt right to leave things there for now (sorry, Frisk...).
> 
> You can check/follow askdarkeryetdarker.tumblr.com for updates, and to talk to characters that have shown up so far in the story. Please leave kudos/comments - they fill me with DETERMINATION to keep writing <3


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